#ANYWAY THANK YOU AGAIN !!!!!! i do my best for the people 😌

[xxplastic-cubexx]

I LOVE your art first of all gahh!!

And i love the way you draw Charles like, did you just make this bald old man incredibly attractive????

thank you so much !! with that i always say I Draw What I See ... charles xavier already attractive nuff said tyvm i didnt do anythin extra.....

[ugh-yoongi]

hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌

tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡

— we need to talk

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3

Seungcheol is incensed.

What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?

Who the fuck had invited you?

He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.

But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—

Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”

Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”

Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.

Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”

As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.

And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.

Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.

But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.

And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.

So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.

Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.

Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.

That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.

Right.

Of course.

That was to be expected.

So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.

But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.

He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.

And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”

Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.

“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”

The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.

Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.

And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.

You don’t want more.

You don’t want the label and the relationship.

You don’t want him.

He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.

Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”

Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”

“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.

Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”

Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”

The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”

True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.

Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle

Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.

Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight

Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.

For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.

Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.

But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.

Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?

Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?

Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?

God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.

Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off

He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.

Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.

You (23:41) Something wrong?

Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.

Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?

But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.

Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.

And god does it kill him.

You (23:44) Don’t act stupid

A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.

You (23:44) Mingyu invited me

Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.

Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes

You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.

You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself

Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.

“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”

Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.

Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”

“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”

Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.

This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.

“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.

Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”

Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.

He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.

Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.

Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.

What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.

The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”

“Seungcheol—”

He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”

You gasp. “No.”

“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.

“I wasn’t—”

A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”

Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”

Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”

Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.

But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—

“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?

He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.

“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.

Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”

Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”

Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”

“What?”

You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”

Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”

“To—to to-touch me.”

You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”

“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”

“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”

You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”

“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”

“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”

All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”

Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—

Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.

You’ve ruined him.

Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—

Loves.

Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.

Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ‘drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?

“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—

“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—

He can’t bring himself to say it.

But he can—“Can I show you instead?”

Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.

Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.

He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.

Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.

He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”

You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”

He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”

Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”

This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.

Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.

“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”

“No shit—”

He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.

He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—

“Do it right, Cheol, please—”

And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”

The rest is muscle memory.

The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.

Tastes a lot like I love you.

“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”

The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.

“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.

“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”

You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”

I love you.

You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.

He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.

You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.

“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.

Maybe it was never like this before.

Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.

So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.

This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”

This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.

This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.

“Say it again.”

Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.

The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.

He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Okay?”

You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.

Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.

“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”

A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.

“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”

He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”

He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”

No, it was never like this.

[becomingmina]

thanks for the clarification ♡

so here is the thought I had

hyunjin and reader being each other's crush but absolutely idiotic about it so they don't know the other's feelings

they have common friends that are sick of the tension between the two. one decides to tell hyunjin, the other suggests the reader to do something to make hyunjin jealous so she can find out if he likes her. (boring I know)

one time when everyone's around, she flirts with jisung or something idk and she gets too touchy so hyunjin is annoyed af. pulls her away to somewhere private and voila, they've confessed in the best way possible 😌🌸

CRUSH. anon request w/ HYUNJIN.

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: hyunjin x female reader genre + warnings: friends to lovers, smut mdni!, oral (both f & m receiving), hyunjin calls reader kitten, semi-public wc: 5.4k mina's note: Anon also wanted to throw ‘kitten’ in it (my fav pet name 👀) Also I really enjoyed writing this & love how much details you put on the request!! My box is open for feedback 💓

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

You don’t know how you got in this situation but here you are; staring at your friend who is currently playing basketball, topless. Well, you’re more like drooling over him.

He just looked so good, so hot. His tall, lean, milky body just running around on the court covered in a thin layer of sweat. Normally you hate the thought of sweat, but it works for him. It works well for Hwang Hyunjin, actually. He even looks like he smells nice too. You watch as he laughs at the other players, hogging the ball like the main character in some high school drama. Your eyes waver from his pretty smile to his muscular arms to his piercing, which is sitting so perfectly under his eyebrow, then to his burgundy hair.

You pay attention the beads of sweat that trickles from his hair to his chest, dripping down his body. You gulped when you see them land on the area just underneath his belly button. You completely loss your sanity as your eyes covered that area. His treasure trail? Happy trail? Whatever people called it. Why was it so sexy on Hyunjin?

You quickly look away before anyone catches you; you shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Hyunjin is your friend.

When you meet him two years ago in your first year of college, he was just some guy in class you become friends with. He is good looking, but you didn’t find him attractive. There was no chemistry, no tension, no feelings. You don’t know how it started but you find yourself thinking about him every other hour of the day now. You would freeze when someone else mentions his name, blush when he was in close proximity of you and even stutter when he speaks to you.

“Hey.. Hey Y/N,” a voice snapping you out of your thoughts, followed by a nudge on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You answered, unaware of who was even calling out to you. You turn your head and there he was, your crush Hwang Hyunjin crouching down next to you, smiling at your blank reaction. You’re used to him towering over you since he was way taller than you but to have him crouched down like this looking at you makes you feel a bit.. timid.

“I’m going to borrow this,” he says dangling your fresh hand towel in-front of you. Oh yeah, the hand towel you carry around in your bag just in case your physical education professor makes you participate in class. The one you won’t let anyone use or even touch.

When they say having a crush makes you do crazy stuff, they do mean it. You were quick to lean him it.

“Huh.. uhh yeah, sure,” you answered, eyes travelling from your towel to his face again.

When you realised you’ve been staring at him longer than you should have, you cough and drop eye contact, making Hyunjin gulped a little bit too loud. “I don’t need it anyways you can keep—”

“—I’ll return it,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wash it first of-course.” You nod your head quietly as you gather up your belongings, getting ready to go to your next class.

“Come on Hyunjin, we are going to be late for class!” Chan, the oldest out of the friend group, calls out to him.

“So.. I’ll see you at lunch then?” Hyunjin says after noticing your quietness.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch,” you mumbled, shooting him a quick glance.

“Bye bro,” Hyunjin says to Minho, giving him a handshake before collecting his bag and going off with Chan.

Minho chuckles at the scene that just unfolded in-front of him; two of his best friends obviously crushing on one another but no one is making a move. Well, it’s not really you and Hyunjin’s fault since you guys don’t know about the other person’s feelings.

“You know he likes you right?” Minho blurted out and you turn your head to his direction.

“Who?” You answered nervously. Did Minho just witness everything?

“Hyunjin,” Minho replies with raised eyebrows, his smug a little bit too cocky for your liking today. You rolled your eyes at him but underneath your skin, you are hot, flustered, embarrassed.

“No way!” you denied. Hyunjin could never like you, he only saw you as a friend.

“He does—”

You scoffed a little bit too fast.

“Do you not see the way he looks at you Y/N?” You can’t tell if Minho was being serious or not.

Minho does have a history of being a joker which makes you think he’s just pranking you. But he also is a very honest friend, he would never joke around with stuff that could potentially hurt you.

“Uhhhh—” you hesitantly reply.

Minho takes in a loud breath, “—I don’t know if you’re genuinely dense or you just don’t want to admit it.”

“He doesn’t like me,” you answered.

“He does,” Minho turns his head behind to look at Hyunjin and you followed. You watch as the two made their way across the field, Chan wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulder trying to snatch your towel away from him.

“Oh, you don’t want to give it to me because that’s your girl’s towel?” Chan laughs, basically choking Hyunjin at this point.

“She’s.. she’s not.. my girl..” Hyunjin softly replies in a cough, not sure if he was actually being choked by Chan’s big arms or by choking up at you being called his girl.

“She’s not your girl.. yet?” The older boy teased.

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin questioned, hoping Chan didn’t see through him.

Chan looked back at you and Minho who was still sitting by the basketball court. You swiftly turn back to Minho, hoping Chan didn’t catch you starring at Hyunjin.

“Trust me,” Minho said with his smug face, raising his brow to the older boy across the field. “You know how to tell if he likes you?”

You stay quiet. You were curious but didn’t want to seem like it, so you just raised your eyebrow. Tell me, tell me Lee Minho!

“Make him jealous,” Minho says lifting his chin to Jisung who was currently surrounded by a group of girls shoving their gym towel into his face.

You know what Minho was referring to; that’s how Felix ended up with Nayeon. Minho suggested to Nayeon to make Felix jealous by sitting next to Jisung at some dinner since he was such a girl magnet. Next thing you know she was pulled away from the table by Felix and they have been together ever since.

You scoffed. It sure worked for them, but you weren’t going to use Jisung like that; he was your friend.

“I’m not going to use Han-Ji like that,” you replied.

“Okay look..” he blinks a little too hard at you. “Just use Han-Ji.. He is also as tired as we all are of you and Hyunjin’s….” He pauses. “..tension..”

“Who is we?” You asked confused.

Who else has been noticing your little crush on Hyunjin? Is what you really wanted to ask your best friend, but you don’t.

“..And there’s no tension between me and Hyunjin.. I don’t know what you talking about,” deny deny deny.

“Everyone in the friend group can feel the tension, you idiot,” the nickname causing you to pout. “Felix, Bin, Min, Lia—”

“—Hyunjin doesn’t like me.”

“Bet?” He was too quick with this. “I’ll let you have bragging rights if he doesn’t like you. But I get the bragging rights if he does,” he suggested.

“Huh, what?” Both of them sound bad to you. Why would you be happy with bragging rights if Hyunjin doesn’t like you back? It would sting you! And if by chance Hyunjin likes you back, you would hate to deal with Minho’s telling the whole campus he was cupid. What the hell was Minho on?

“What?” He laughed after noticing your face, full of displeasure. “I mean, the worst that could happen is he doesn’t like you back.. But then that means you get bragging rights?” Minho laughs tilting his head to the side. He can read you well.

“Dude you’re insufferable!” You rolled your eyes. He was still looking at you with his smirk.. Oh wait. “What do you mean like me back? I don’t like him,” you denied, it but wasn’t fast enough, he had caught you.

“Sure.. I know everything. Come on, trust me. I’m your best friend,” Minho nudges your shoulders. “Remember the party this weekend? How you rather sit at home and do nothing. Well maybe you should just come. We haven’t seen you out in a while.. Come, and be prettier than this..” he says looking down at your gym wear. You were in baggy sweat shorts and an even baggier t-shirt. “And I’ll help you get with him-”

“—Hey!” you shove his shoulder back. “What’s wrong with me now?!” You look down at your attire. It was gym class anyways of course you would be in this, even if you don’t participate.

“What? Nothing,” he answers playfully. “Come on, we going to be late to our next class!” Minho gets up before opening up his hand to help you up.  “Han-ji, we’re late!”

It was lunch time and you and Han-Ji ditched Minho to go down to the college’s local bakery to get some lunch.

“You’re totally not coming to the party?” Minho asked Hyunjin who was sat at the lunch table, eating his huge burrito. Seungmin, Felix and Chan were also there chiming into the conversation.

“Who’s going?” Hyunjin asked, a mouth full.

“Just the usual.. us. So, Chris, Bin, Jeongin, Yeji.. and then half of the third years are invited,” Hyunjin doesn’t look too interested. Don’t get the wrong idea, he loves his friends and parties, but he had also seen them every single day on campus, so he had no fear of missing out.

“…oh and Y/N says she’s going to come too,” Minho blurted, playing full attention to his friends reaction.

Hyunjin’s ears perks up at your name, his cheeks suddenly growing pink as he looks back at Minho.

“Actually.. I’ll come. Haven’t been had fun in a while,” Hyunjin drops the eye contact when he notices Minho’s sneer. “You want me to bring anything?” Hyunjin continues a little twitchy, playing with his food.

Minho just laughs. This was getting too exciting for him. “Bring your courage!” The rest of the boys laughed.

“What?” Hyunjin asked, narrowing his eyes at the crowd.

“You like Y/N, don’t you?” Seungmin exclaimed catching Hyunjin by surprised.

“Umm...” Hyunjin freezes. He doesn’t know how to answer. Of course, he likes you, but he didn’t want to admit knowing the boys were definitely going to tease him even more for it. But he didn’t want to say no just in case they spin it around to say he doesn’t like you at all as a friend.  

“Don’t worry bro, she likes you too,” Minho break the silence. Hyunjin’s heart stop at his best friend’s words. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that.

“Really? She likes me back?” Hyunjin replies promptly, a sheer smile pulling on his face. He was definitely blushing.  

“Back.. So you do like her?” Chan torments Hyunjin again and Hyunjin’s smile slowly faded form his face. They had caught him too.   

“Hey Y/N!” Felix calls out and the rest of the boys look over Hyunjin’s shoulder. He wanted to spin back to check but he didn’t want the boys to play more into his eagerness, so he just freezes looking straight at them.

“Hi Lix!” Your voice calls from behind him.

“Come here! Hurry!” Felix continues to make conversation with you.

“Bro just ask her out already, we’re all tired of the tension,” Chan quickly expresses.

“What tension?” Hyunjin was desperate to see what they had to say before you got to the table.

“Sexual tension,” Seungmin whispers and everyone goes silence, pressing their lips trying to hold back their smile.

“There’s no tension between me and—”

“—Okay you say there’s so tension? I guess Han-Ji can make his move then,” Minho interrupted, surprising Hyunjin again.

“Does Han-Ji likes Y/N—"

“—Shh she’s behind you,” Chan shushes the younger boy up before he could finish his sentence.

“Hey..” Hyunjin says timidly before you could even sit down.

“Hey..” you replied back, climbing over the bench so you can sit next to him. The whole group watches as Hyunjin blushed at your proximity. “Sit here,” you pat the area on the other side of you for Jisung to sit.

“Coffee and pastries for lunch? That place is like a 10 minute walk,” Chan askes from across the table.

“It’s okay, Han-ji keeps me company,” you say as you nudge Jisung a little bit and you both open up your pastry bag.

Hyunjin glances at you from aside, he stays quiet.

Hyunjin doesn’t know how to feel. He didn’t expect his boys to catch on about his feelings for you and he didn’t expect Minho to blurt out that you like him back. Hyunjin is also confused after seeing how close Han-Ji is to you too, he never really questions your close relationship until now. Does Han-Ji actually like you? Thoughts flood his brain as he continues to eat his burrito.  

You rushed home from your last Friday class to get ready for the party. You threw on one of your mini sun dress, pairing it up with some sandals and a cross body bag before collecting your black cardigan and rushing out to Yeji who was ready in the living room waiting to do some pre-party shots with you.

You and Yeji tipsy-ly made it to the loudest house on the street. Lee Minho’s residency. It was only 8pm and it was already crowded. She held your hand and clumsy pulls you through dim-lit hallways packed with people before reaching the living room. There they were, all of your friends in the living room with a drink in their hand, conversing with one another.  

“There they are!” Seungmin yells as he sees you and his girlfriend. He quickly makes his way to rip Yeji off you, pulling her into the kitchen to get a drink.

“Wow, my best friend finally came to one of my parties!” Minho appears out of no where handing you a beer.

“I was here two months ago Min..” You playfully rolled your eyes. “When you and Nayeon vomited everywhere and me and Felix had to bathe you guys.. naked,” you refreshed his memory.

“I remember.. Crazy night..” Minho laughs. He stops to look you up and down before grabbing your shoulders. “Very pretty Y/N. You planning to make someone jealous?” He complimented before getting back to his little mischiefs.

“Maybe,” you answered looking around the room. You hadn’t seen Hyunjin yet and Minho notices.

“Your boy is hella tipsy by the way, he keeps telling me he’s nervous but won’t tell me why,” Minho informs you.

“He’s not my boy.”

“Sure.. okay, anyways so not your boy is currently staring at you from behind,” Minho also announced as he stares at Hyunjin from over your shoulder.

Hyunjin’s heart stops at your presence. He has always found you pretty but tonight, he found you extremely gorgeous. Maybe because tonight was the night, he was going to let you know about his feelings. He takes another sip of his drink, pondering how he’s going to pull you away. He wanted to find the perfect timing, he didn’t want to do it too early just in case you reject him, and he has to go home early.

He watches you as you make your way to Jisung who was currently sat on the tiniest fucking armchair he had ever seen.

“Han-Ji!” You were going to follow Minho’s instructions; you either leave tonight with Hyunjin or rejected by Hyunjin but with bragging rights.

“Hey Y/N, you look like you had a couple of drinks already,” Jisung says as he touches his owns cheeks to indicate where your pink complexion was. You nodded bashfully to your friend before getting up on the arm of the chair to sit.

“It’s wet there, I just spilled my drink there. Come here,” Jisung stops you before you could sit. He pulled your arm so you can squeeze next to him on the tiny fucking armchair. You hope Hyunjin was watching.

“You okay?” Jisung asks cupping your face to lean your head against his shoulder - he knows how tired you get when you drink.

“Mhmm,” you closed your eyes as you continue to converse with your friend.

Hyunjin was still watching everything from the other side of the room. His hand was wrapped around his drink tightly, expressing his annoyance at the skin-ship and at himself for not pulling you away the second you got here, like he wasn’t waiting all night just for you to arrive. He starts to feel a little jealous now that your attention is on Han-Ji. And maybe Minho was right, and Han-Ji does have feelings for you.

He had to do it. He had to pull you away and ask why you hadn’t noticed his feelings for you all this time. He feels himself grow hot, he was feeling tense.

Hyunjin takes in a deep breath before downing the drink, squeezing his cup on the process. The plastic from the red cup causes disturbance making the boys turn their head at their friend.

“You good, pretty boy?” Changbin asks noticing the change in Hyunjin’s demeanour, taking the red cup out of his hand.

“Yeah, just need some air,” Hyunjin says running a hand through his fluffy red hair as he makes his way to you.

“Can we talk?” Someone askes from above you and you instantly open your eyes, locking eyes with them.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you finally see him. He had on some baggy jeans with a black t-shirt, one sleeved rolled up complementing his muscular arm. God, he looked so hot; you feel yourself drooling over him again.

“Okay.” You answered softly.

“Come,” he says, grabbing a hold of your hand making you get up from the chair. You heart start to flutter at his brace. Was it happening now? Is Hyunjin jealous?

He guides you through the crowd of people in the living room before dragging you up the stairs and towards Minho’s bedroom. He lets you enter first before locking the door behind him.

Your eyes wonder around Minho’s bedroom - his room was dark, quite clean, quite quiet for such a loud guy. You scoff to yourself quietly at the contrast. As you spin around the room, Hyunjin watches you and smiles at your cuteness before getting back to his senses of why he pulled you here in the first place.

“Are you drunk?” He asked suddenly.

“Hmm? Not quite yet,” you answered, making your way into Minho’s ensuite. “Why?” You asked so he can follow you, just testing the waters.

You placed your bag on the counter before digging through it trying to find your lipstick.

“What are you doing then?” Hyunjin asked towering behind you looking at you through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You glance up at him to ask before going through your bag again, acting like you had no idea what was going on, even though your heart was beating just as fast as his.

“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Yep, he saw everything.

“I wasn’t on him?” You lied.

“Y/N.” He was getting a little be frustrated at your replies, you were obviously up to something.

“Why does it matter to you anyways—”

“—It’s making me jealous.” Hyunjin interrupted you making you glance up at him again. Minho’s plan was working. Minho was right.

You spin around to face him and finally, you can feel the tension everyone was talking about. He likes you. You feel your heart beating rapidly as he stares into your eyes. Your breathing becomes heavier as he takes another step towards you. You try to keep eye contact just to see if he drops it first, but he doesn’t. Your eyes drop first, to his lips then up to his eyes then back to his lips. They looked so full, so soft. Wouldn’t be crazy if you guys just kissed?

“Hyunjin?” You say above a whisper, lips forming into a pout right after. Hyunjin found you so precious looking up at him like this.

His resting face rapidly turns into a smirks now as he watches your eyes flicker to his lips. He knew what you wanted; he knows how you feel now. “Hmm?” He questioned, just to tease you a little bit.

“Can you just kiss me already?” You say, not begging but with a hint of desperation. You like him and you just confirmed he likes you, what were you guys waiting for?

He chuckles before his hand comes up to your face, cupping it for a second then he leans and kisses you. His lips felt so soft, so warm just like how you imagined them felt. You couldn’t explain the feeling, it was like you were in dream, it’s incredible.

Soon Hyunjin deepens the kiss, letting his tongue enter your mouth as one of his hand keeps your face in place, the other snaked down your body to your waist. Your tongue swiped against his lips, and you tasted a bit of lemonade and tequila. If this was a way to drink tequila, then you were all for it.

“Up,” he pulls away to say and you listen jumping onto the counter with the help of his grip. You spread your legs so he can stand in between them. He looks at you in awe, he couldn’t control his smile.

“You didn’t answer me..” he says as his hands find their way under your dress just resting on your thighs.

“Hm?” You whimpered, wanting his lips back on yours.

“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Hyunjin asked again, a little lower, a little more raspier now that he’s more confident to dominate you.

“To make you jealous,” you whisper back to him, admitting to all your little shenanigans.

“Why?” He couldn’t hold back his smile.

“To see if you like me back.” You say, and his ears perked up at your words.

“You got your answer?”

“Mhmm..” you admit.

“Good.”

“But.. want to hear you say it,” you reply cheekily, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders to pull him close to you so your lips are barely touching.

He lets out an airy breath before pressing a kiss to your lips, letting it linger on for a little bit just to make your heart flutter once more for him. “I like you,” he says, and you try to conceal the smile pulling up on your face. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

“Where were we?” Hyunjin says and you pull him back onto you.

Maybe it was the pent up sexual tension you both had been holding in as, as soon as your lips were connected again, it became again heated. His hands are fondling with your thighs, and his tongue is slipped back down your mouth. You feel a hot sensation making its way to your core, a moan slipping from your lips. He smirked in between the kisses, his hands inching up higher now hiking you dress up.

Hyunjin continues his kisses down your neck, and you tilt your head back, letting him cover more area with his lips.

As he harshly sucks on your neck, your hands start to explore his body, caressing up and down his chest, down his covered stomach. You slowly creep them lower to his hard on that was pressing against the counter, begging to be touch. He lets out a groan at the contact.

“Hyunjin?” you whimpered at how stiff he was. You both wanted more but not on this cold bathroom counter. “Are we actually doing this here?” You ask.

“Where else would you do it?” Hyunjin looks down at you his a raised eyebrow, his hands stopping at your hips.

You look around before cheekily suggesting, “Minho’s bed,” and he cracks up.

“Come,” he takes a step back to hold your hand as you jump off the counter.

Hyunjin pulls you back onto him as he sat back on Minho’s bed - it was comfier than he expected, it was actually quite comfy to fuck on actually.

“You’re such a good kisser, it making me so horny,” He says, gripping your thighs so you’re straddling him. You feel his hard-on abusing your core and you become like jelly, draping yourself onto him. God, it was also making you so horny.

Are you both really gonna fuck in your best friend’s bed? Probably.

“Hyunjin?” You start to suck on his neck, returning the marks he gave you. “Wanna blow you… can I?” You asked, rolling your hips onto his.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the pleasure, halting your hips. “Fuck— kitten..” The pet name slipping from his lips, making you stop whatever you were doing to look him in the eyes. Did he just call you kitten? And did you like it?

“Yeah? Wanna be a good kitten? And suck me off right here in your best-friend room?” He teased after seeing your eyes lit up at the name.

“Yes.. wanna be a good kitten,” you replied, lifting his shirt to slowly to expose his abs, your hand lazily runs across his milky body.

You shuffled back, kneeling down by the bed before peeking at his happy trail. You finally got to see it up close, and you didn’t waste anytime before attaching your lips to it. Hyunjin’s hand flung to hold onto your hair and he lets out a groan as you suck the skin around his navel.

“You’re just like a kitten, nipping into me like that,” he moans.

“You love it,” you teased him.

“Yeah I do..” he confesses breathlessly. “Couldn’t stop thinking back to gym class yesterday.. how you eyed it all lesson..” Oh, so he caught you staring but didn’t say anything?

“Was it driving you insane?” He torments and you murmured nodding your head.

“God, kitten… need your mouth now, I’m might cum untouched,” he begs and you chuckle, blowing hot air from your mouth at his skin causing him to flinch.

You give him what he wants. You undo his jeans, shimmering it down his thighs before palming him through his boxer.

“Y/N, please..” he begs again, closing his eyes to hold in his release.

“You’re so big,” you say the second you pull down his boxer letting his red rock solid dick slap across his stomach. You didn’t expect him to be him to be this big, this thick. You gulp at it before wrapping your hands around him. “Wanna taste..” you blabbered as you brought his tip to your lips.

Hyunjin’s head kick back as you wrap your lips around his head. His hands gripped your hair tightly as he starts to set the pace, and you let him. He pushes you down taking half his length into your mouth before guiding you back up. You moan as he slides down your mouth, unable to control the pleasure you were having from just giving him head. Once you go match his pace, Hyunjin lets go of his grip and runs his through your hair, endlessly praising you as he tries to keeps himself together.

“You’re so good—” he sucks in another breath.

You take him fully into your mouth and gagged once he hits the back of your throat. “Ahh, cuming- cuming—” he lets out a low grunt as he paints your throat white. You swallow the warm thick liquid before letting go of him with a pop.

“Kitten, you’re so perfect. Such a good mouth,” he says finding your arm and pulling up to sit on his lap.

“Can I return the favour?” His hand wrapped around your hips, his finger carefully gathering the fabric of your skirt so he can expose your panties.

“I don’t know if I can keep quiet Hyunjin,” you admitted. You can still hear the loud music outside, even if it was muffled by the walls but a part of you’re still afraid someone might hear you. You couldn’t even keep it in while making out, nor sucking him off, you don’t know how you’ll be if you guys actually have sex.

“But I can’t leave you high like this,” Hyunjin replies, his two fingers just touching the fabric of your panties that was getting soaked by your wetness. You kick your head back at the pleasures “I just know you’re wet from sucking me off.. Let me, let me just eat you out..” he begged, his eyes turned dark full of lust.

“Please,” you gave in, out of breath.

Hyunjin plants a kiss to your neck before laying you down on the bed.

“Fuck, you are soaked,” Hyunjin says the second he lifts up your dress and sees the huge wet patch on your underwear. He kneels down and peels it off, watching a thin line of your wetness pulls off with it. Hyunjin spreads your legs wider and his eyes rolls to the back of his head as exposes you. You were wet, glistening, it was so hot to him.

You let out a moan as the cold from Minho’s room brushed against your core. “Please, need your mouth,” it was your turn to beg.

Hyunjin complies and attached his lips to your pussy. “Ahh! Mhmm.. More..” you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t know if you can keep quiet.

Hyunjin buries his face deeper as he contents to lick all over you, his nose rubbing against your clit. He was basically pussy drunk at his stage, gripping and pulling your hip closer to his faces. Your head falls back as you feel the pleasure building up in your core, your thighs volunteering closing around his head to add more pressure.

“I’m going cum, please.. Hyunjin— gonna cum..” you whine as he harshly sucks on your clit now, it was basically the cheat code in making you cum and he was able to get it the first time.

You moaned as you feel a glush of wetness explode from your core, you had cum. Hyunjin can tell you’re orgasming but he didn’t want to stop, you were too addicting.

You had to rip him off of you before you were overstimulated. “Hyunjin, too much,” you whined and he finally lifts his head.

“You taste too good kitten, sorry couldn’t stop,” he says and he wipes your wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it.

“Come here,” he jumps on the bed, pulling you into his arms. He runs his finger through your hair as you recover. You both stare at each other for a while before falling into a fit of giggles. How crazy is it that you were each other’s crush and not realising it.

“Should we go back out?” He asked smoothing down your hair.

“I have to touch up my lipstick first,” you say, pecking his nose.

“Let me help you,” he pulls you up from the bed before back hugging you to the bathroom where your bag was.

“Back to mine tonight, okay?” He reminded you softly as he wipes your lipstick in your lips - a hint of innocence radiating from him like he didn’t just lap up all your juices like a greedy animal.

“Of course, I have no where else I rather be tonight,” you answered, grinning from ear to ear at your pretty boy.

“Can’t believe it took you to squeeze into that tiny chair with Han-Ji for me to tell you,” Hyunjin beats himself up.

“It’s okay Hyunjin, I reckon the timing was perfect,” you reassured.

The house was packed now than before, it took you and Hyunjin a while to squeeze through all the people. Minho watch as you both hold hands, happily, making your way down the stairs, his smug pulling back on his face.

“Who got the bragging rights?” Minho asks cheekily as you both walk past him.

“You.” You answered rolling your eyes and Hyunjin laughs.

“You also got a messy bed too, bro,” Hyunjin taps Minho by the shoulders before following you.

Minho was left mouth agape as he stares up at the stairs. “Did they just…”

[livwritessometimes]

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

: Mason Mount x singer!reader

: Y/n can do it with a broken heart

: Prev (Love Lost Series) | Next

: Begin Again Series

: Love Lost Series

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note: It’s finally here!!! The spin-off series for Love Lost! Lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist

…

liked by kellypiquet and 92,780 others

Yourname: Just me, my niece, my Kelly, and some guy we found on the way 🌊

view all 79,721 comments

kellypiquet: the best way to spend summer 🩵

*liked by Yourname*

User21: “my Kelly” 🥺🥺

maxverstappen: Excuse me ☝🏻 what do you mean by some random guy???

-> Yourname: I think I was pretty clear by what I meant 😌

-> kellypiquet: ya seemed crystal to me 🤷🏻‍♀️

-> maxverstappen: why do I even bother anymore 🤦🏻‍♂️

-> User69: ya max at this point just admit it’s Y/n and Kelly in a relationship and you’re the other woman 😙

*liked by kellypiquet and Yourname*

liked by maxfewtrell and 65,528 others

👤: magui_corceiro

landonorris: Summer has never been better ☀️

view all 52,301 comments

magui_corceiro: ily sm ❤️

*liked by landonorris*

-> landonorris: ily too 💘

maxfewtrell: It’s ok 👌🏻 no need to thank the photographer or anything

→ landonorris: 🙄

User09: Ahhhh so cuteeeee!!!!

User86: I love them SO MUCH 💗

liked by kellypiquet and 122,710 others

Yourname: Lights, Camera, Bitch Smile! 📸

view all 97,578 comments

maxverstappen: P says she loved the show a lot!

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: Tell P I love her!! And that I’m getting her all the merch from the shows 💕

-> kellypiquet: Y/n no ☝🏻 she already has a lot of merch

→ maxverstappen: Yes Y/n - P :)

-> Yourname: 😊

-> kellypiquet: 😠

-> Yourname: 🏃🏻‍♀️

-> maxverstappen: 🏃🏻

-> maxverstappen: 🏃🏻‍♀️- P

User43: Another day of Y/n and Max testing Kelly’s patience

*liked by kellypiquet*

liked by User84 and 32,942 others

👤: Yourname

Y/nUpdates: Y/n L/n was spotted taking pictures with a fan. According to her fans, she seems to be in a good place. Many are happy to see the singer smiling again, especially after the breakup of Lando Norris and Y/N L/n. Since then, Norris has started seeing Portuguese model Margarida Corceiro. There is no news about whether L/n is seeing someone or not. Stay tuned to find out more about what the singer has been up to these days. 

view all 26,305 comments

User04: I'm so happy that she’s better now!!!

User79: she's so pretty 😍

User66: Who needs a man to be happy anyways 😊

liked by User04 and 247,974 others

👤: Yourname, carlossainz55, joaofelix79, puma

scuderiaferrari: Stay tuned for this week's video with Puma’s newest ambassadors, Y/n L/n and João Félix. Watch the magic happen as the two partner up with our very own Carlos Sainz in an interesting video, wherein you’ll get to see them take turns at tongue twisters in each other’s native language. We can’t say much about the video, just that our stomachs still hurt from laughing so much 🤭. Video out this Thursday!

view all 163,590 comments

Yourname: 💕

*liked by scuderiaferrari*

carlossainz55: Can’t wait 🙌🏻

*liked by scuderiaferrari*

joaofelix79: Had so much fun 🫶🏻

*liked by scuderiaferrari*

User55: Ferrari you dirty dirty bastard 😏

User08: Puma said let’s play matchmaker and picked the two people who would actually break the internet if spotted together 😩

User78: If I were Lando or Magui I would be so salty tho 😝

User00: Not them throwing Carlos being in the mix 😭 cherry on the top for little lando norris!!

liked by joaofelix79 and 95,728 others

👤: joaofelix79, carlossainz55

Yourname: Cats out of the bag ig 🤭

view all 64,262 comments

joaofelix79: i guess so 🤔

-> Yourname: Seems like we can’t do anything now 🤷🏻‍♀️

-> joaofelix79: 😏

User89: ok wtf? I was not expecting them to be interacting like this! It’s kinda 😳

User64: why do I suddenly crave more João and Y/n content in my life!!

carlossainz55: I still think it was unfair 👎🏻

-> Yourname: Chilli you’re just upset cause you lost 😜

-> User11: She has a nickname for CARLOS ❤️❤️

liked by kellypiquet and 148,611 others

👤 : maxverstappen, redbullracing, joaofelix79

Yourname: This week’s episode of Keeping Up With Max-Emilian 🇳🇱

view all 94,729 comments

joaofelix79: Best paddock partner 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: Honestly! Like what would you have even done without me 💅🏻

-> joaofelix79: hmm 🤔 probably gotten to the garage faster 😊

-> Yourname: I see how it is! Good luck trying to navigate through the area next time 🙂

-> joaofelix79: now now Y/n I’m just joking 😅 why aren’t you answering your call?? I still don’t know where the exit is!! Y/NN

-> Yourname: 🦗🦗

maxverstappen: 💙

*liked by Yourname*

redbullracing: At this point it should be ‘Keeping Up With Y/n’ who is this Max anyways 🤷🏻‍♂️

→ Yourname: maybe it should be 🤭

-> maxverstappen: Betrayed by my own team 💔

User99: Y/n and João dating was not on my 2024 bingo 🫨

User02: Did he take…no he didn’t…is he wearing her cap in the 3rd photo??? 🧢

-> User81: WAITTT HE ISSSSSS

joaofelix79 added to their story!

seen by Yourname and 53,490 others

liked by User66 and 57,821 others

👤: Yourname, joaofelix79

FootballUpdates: Y/n L/n and João Félix were spotted at a cafe near L/n’s apartment. Rumor has it, the two have been close ever since they shot a video together for the Scuderia Ferrari x Puma collab with Carlos Sainz. Many fans are excited about the potential for the two to become a couple, although some find it odd. It also should be noted that L/n’s ex, Lando Norris, and Félix’s ex, Margarida Corceiro, are currently in a relationship. There has been a lot of talk online about this newfound relationship between the two being the ‘ultimate revenge’ but only time will tell whether the two are dating or not. 

view all 41,921 comments

User04: Shut upppppp there is now wayyyy!!

User33: they’d be kinda cute don’t you think 💭

liked by landonorris and 78,761 others

👤: redbullracing

magui_corceiro: With the bulls today 🩵

view all 53,711 comments

landonorris: That’s okay your heart is at papaya

*liked by magui_corceiro*

magui_corceiro: Always baby 🧡

redbullracing: Happy to have you with us this week 💙

*liked by magui_corceiro*

User11: nah red bull did Y/n dirty 🙂

User02: Max looked so awkward 😭😭

User67: You’re so prettyyyy 🧡

liked by alexandrasaintmleux and 106,829 others

👤: alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari

Yourname: Just met the love of my life 💕 Never gonna leave Leo now 🐕

view all 82,832 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: You told me you won’t post that picture 😕

-> Yourname: nooo don’t be sadd! You looked so cute I had to 😫

-> alexandrasaintmleux: 😊

scuderiaferrari: So does this mean that you’ll be at our garage from now on 😌

-> redbullracing: ah ah not so fast 🙅🏻‍♂️

-> scuderiaferrari: shooo 🤺

User09: Y/n x Ferrari Content>>>>>>>>

joaofelix79: ready to be the tour guide for Ferrari then?

-> Yourname: depends on who is looking for the tour 🗺️

-> joaofelix79: hmm okay 😏

-> User99: WHAT ARE THESE INTERACTIONS???

-> User71: Are you dating or not???? Just tell us please 😭😭

liked by kellypiquet and 162,829 others

👤: kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, joaofelix79

Yourname: In between the studio 🎶

view all 99,626 comments

User65: ARE WE GETTING NEW MUSIC????

joaofelix79: Ofc you used that photo 🙄

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: you love it 🥰

-> joaofelix79: Debatable I’d say 😬

kellypiquet: 🤭🤭

-> Yourname: 🤭🤭

-> User82: Kelly what do you know????? TELL US!!

charles_leclerc: ok it’s all good, hang out with my girlfriend and my dog but don’t tag me in the photo (even tho I took the second picture) 😃

-> Yourname: you’re just jealous they like me more 😌

-> alexandrasaintmleux: ya Charles, even Leo ran towards Y/n when you asked him ‘Leo my child who do you love more Y/n or your father?’ 😂

-> charles_leclerc: Alex that is OUR CHILD 😭

-> alexandrasaintmleux: life is so tough as a single mom 😔

-> Yourname: It’s okay Alex, I’m ready to be Leo’s other mom ☺️

-> alexandrasaintmleux: 🥰

-> User61: I don’t even know what to say to Charles at this point 😭😭

liked by User04 and 107,618 others

👤: kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, joaofelix79, maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, masonmount

F1updates: It seems like these stars have taken dancing the night away to a whole new level. F1 driver Max Verstappen was spotted at a club along with his longtime girlfriend Kelly Piquet, friend and fellow driver Charles Leclerc, and his girlfriend Alexandra Saint Mleux. Fans also spotted singer/songwriter Y/n L/n and football stars João Félix and Mason Mount with the group. According to bystanders, the group was celebrating Verstappen and Leclerc’s podium. In an interesting turn of events, some fans also spotted L/n getting involved in some serious dance floor action with a certain someone. Unfortunately, none of the people around were able to see the guy's face, but it is believed to be someone from the group. Now the question is: could it be one of the single footballers, or was it one of the committed F1 drivers?

view all 89,672 comments

User04: WTFFFFF

User29: That has to be João!!!!

-> User06: Ikrrrrr like there is no question! The two have been so mysterious ever since the shot that video for puma

User52: The question is what is Mason doing there?

-> User03: Mason and João are good friends and João has been hanging out with Y/n a lot so maybe he called him? Who knows tbh 🤷🏻‍♀️

User77: Wow was Lando not enough for her? Now she is planning to ruin Max and Charles life too???

-> User88: let’s not forget featuring in a video with Carlos!! Like you know they’re good friends, I bet Carlos rejected her 😌

liked by masonmount and 216,618 others

Yourname: You know you’re good when you can even do it with a broke heart ❤️‍🩹

My new single out at midnight 🏆

view all 186,527 comments

kellypiquet: I’M SO PROUDDDDD ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

*liked by yourname*

maxverstappen: Ngl P and I play this every night before bedtime 💕

*liked by yourname*

-> Yourname: Maxieee you love me 🥹

-> maxverstappen: ok maybe a little 🤏🏻

alexandrasaintmleux: I’m so obsessed with you it’s not even a joke at this point 🤩

-> Yourname: I’m still saying I’m ready to be Leo’s other mom, just say the word and it’s done 🧑‍🧑‍🧒

-> charles_leclerc: It’s okay I have faith in the power of our love ❤️ (Alex please I’ll start crying right in the middle of the garage)

charles_leclerc: It’s gonna be such a hit Y/n/n I know it 🫡

*liked by yourname*

joaofelix79: It’s gonna create quite the buzz when it comes out 🤭

-> Yourname: what do you even mean 🤔

-> joaofelix79: we’re gonna play coy now are we? 😏

User59: that guy HAS TO BE JOÃO!!!!

-> User31: I SWEARRRR 😭😭 please let it be him 🙏🏻

…

Tags: @jobesbabe | @fifantasys | @evans-dejong | @msliz | @lokideservesahug | @jpg3 | @jxnellat | @spoodergirl | @themirrorballgal | @sarah-thatstings-ann | @newlifeforus | @eiaaasantha | @hotgirlslikemax | @2pagenumb | @avni-sarai | @wobblymug |

[yuikomorii]

Ayayui date♡

// I'm not sure why, but I suddenly got a burst of creativity. There's no special occasion for this post; it was really just an excuse to edit Yui in my favorite Princess Collection outfit. I like how the merch line was released right on Ayato’s birthday, so I really wanted to see an Ayayui date in those outfits! 😌💕

I was in the mood to write a special scenario again. You just have to click on ‘Keep reading’ to find it. This one is set after the LE events, particularly after the After Story, so I hope you enjoy it! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

Ayato: Haa… finally!

After all this time, I’ve managed to sort out every single problem in the Demon World.

Geez, I’m gladly taking a break!

( Ever since I became king, I’ve been buried in an endless pile of documents—so many that I’ve grown sick just being in that place. Things seem to be getting better in the Demon World, though I’d lie to say it’s perfectly stable. )

( Well, whatever. I shouldn’t bother too much about that… for now. )

( Right now, all I can think about is her. Ugh, these stupid king duties have kept us apart for way too long. I’m sure she must’ve felt really lonely, huh…? )

( Damn it! That was never my intention, but I know it must be boring as hell to be stuck in the castle all day by yourself. )

( That’s why, I’m definitely going to make it up to her today and take her somewhere nice~! )

Place: Their room

Ayato: Chi-chi-na-shi, guess who’s ba—

( Hah!? She’s not here? )

Oi, Yui!

( She’s still not answering? )

Yui, where are yo—

???: Ayato-kun..!

— hugs his back —

Ayato: What the—!

Yui: Fufu, sorry for taking you off guard. I was just thrilled to see Ayato-kun again!

Ayato: Geez, next time I call you, answer me, understood? You’re still in the Demon World, anything could happen when no one’s around, y’know?

Yui: Ah… I’m sorry for being careless. I hope I didn’t make you worry…

Ayato: No need to sulk now. What matters the most is that you’re alright.

Now… about the thing you’re wearing. Where the heck did you even get it from? It’s the first time I’ve seen you in it.

Yui: Oh, actually I bought it last time we went shopping together. You see… I didn’t show it to you back then because I wanted it to be a surprise, but uuh… does it not suit me?

Ayato: Haa… normally, when a woman wants to surprise her man, she wears lingerie or something sexy, but I’ll forgive you this time. Why? Because you look hella cute in that, can’t deny.

— Yui blushes —

Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you! I’m really happy…!

Ayato: ( Is she seriously almost on the verge of tears for that? )

C-C’mon, don’t get all emotional over every little thing. The date hasn’t even started yet! You really want people to see you with red eyes and puffy cheeks outside?

— Yui shakes head —

Ayato: Good, now let’s go!

— He takes her hand —

Place: Kaminashi City

Ayato: Can’t believe I’m gonna say this but I somehow missed this place.

Yui: Is that so? I thought Ayato-kun didn’t like the Human World.

Ayato: I don’t mind either of them, but right now I’m sick of the Demon World. If I see one more document, I will end up throwing up on the spot.

Yui: Ayato-kun…

( That’s right, he’s been working a lot ever since he became king. I’m sure it must truly be tiring spending days in front of all those documents. )

I’m glad you put a lot of effort in your role, but take it easy, okay? I can’t do much in this situation, yet… If you ever need help, I want to be there to support you!

Ayato: Hmm… anyway. I’m not here to talk about work again. I just want us to enjoy some time together for once.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun really sounds exhausted… He’s matured so much these past few months, which isn’t bad, but I just wish he could relax a little. )

Then, let’s make the best of this day!

— tugs onto his arm and starts walking —

*Timeskip*

Yui: Haa… it’s way better outside.

( Ayato-kun is still waiting to pay for our things, but it was way too hot in that store, so he told me to get some fresh air. )

( Now that I think about it, vampires are always cold, so I doubt the heat bothers him as much as it does me, right? Even so, seeing him care about my comfort makes me really happy. )

— warm breeze hits —

Yui: Mm… so ni—

— something suddenly hits her —

Yui: Kyah! What on earth was that!?

Eh? That’s—

Familiar: Greetings. Pardon my interruption, but could it be that you are Komori Yui-sama?

Yui: ( ‘Sama’? Uuh… I feel like that’s an exaggeration. )

Yes, I am. Did anything happen…?

Familiar: Rest assured, there is no need for alarm. My purpose here is simply to entrust this to your care. Unable to find Ayato-sama, I must rely on you to deliver him this letter.

— Yui takes it —

Yui: But, what’s this letter about?

If it’s possible to tell, of course.

Familiar: In essence, a new set of documents has been prepared for Ayato-sama. Please inform him at your earliest convenience, as his return is eagerly anticipated.

Yui: Wait! Does it mean that he really has to return now—!

( Oh no! The familiar is already gone! )

( To think that Ayato-kun was finally starting to relax again… )

( All this letter will do is ruin his day, that’s for sure. )

( But at the same time, not showing it to him… that would undoubtedly get him in troubles. )

( Uuh… This situation is so complicated. What should I do…? )

Ayato: Chichinashi!!!

Yui: ….!

— suddenly hides the letter —

A-Ah, Ayato-kun, you’re back!

Ayato: Duh, and I kept calling your name but it seems you only answer to Chi-chi-na-shi~.

— He starts pinching her cheeks —

Yui: Whey dwont, staphh!

Ayato: Hehe, that’s what you get for spacing out and ignoring me.

Anyway, you weren’t approached by any creeps, were you?

Yui: N-No, not at all!

Ayato: Hmm… that doesn’t sound too honest. Are you lying?

Yui: No way! I… I’m just hungry and my stomach won’t stop growling, which is really embarrassing…

Ayato: Haa… you never change. Always getting embarrassed over everything, but no worries, I didn’t hear anything. Though, if you’re really that hungry, I guess we could get something to eat.

Yui: Y-Yeah, that sounds great!

* Timeskip *

Yui: ( After the restaurant, we went to the mall, then back to the center. Ayato-kun… we walked a lot today, but instead of getting tired, he just got more and more energetic. )

( I suppose he was really in need of this break, so maybe hiding that letter wasn’t entirely bad, no…? Still, I’ll have to give it to him today, otherwise I’ll surely put him at risk… )

Ayato: Oi Yui, look!

Yui: W-Woah! I’ve never seen such big Takoyaki before!

Ayato: Heh, right? It’s even bigger than the ones from the Demon World!

Also, Ore-sama got you this, so I better see you eat it all.

Yui: Eh-? This is such a big donut! T-There’s no way I could eat all of it!

Ayato: So you’re refusing my donut? You’re way too ungrateful for a Chichinashi. Well, in that case, I guess you don’t need it any—

Yui: No, no, the donut is good!

— starts eating it —

Come to think of it, today you’ve spoiled me quite a lot, Ayato-kun.

Ayato: And why would that be bad? I thought women liked that.

Yui: It’s not bad, but I really didn’t do anything special. You’re the one who’s been working all day and night, for this reason I believe you deserve this treatment more.

Ayato: Haa… getting all self-conscious, just like always.

Look, you know I’m not good at sentimental shit, but after everything we’ve been through, your presence is special enough for me.

I guess I just want to cherish you, that’s all.

Yui: Ayato-kun… I feel the——

A-Ah, oh no!

( The chocolate… it melted on my hand! )

I-I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!

— tries to stand up —

Ayato: Nah, nah. C’mere.

— grabs her and sits her on his lap —

Yui: Wait, don’t!

— he starts licking her hand —

Yui: A-Ayato-kun, stop it! We’re in public…!

Ayato: Mnn… Mm…

— slowly bites —

Yui: Uuh…

( At this rate, people will definitely start watching!)

— starts moving —

Ayato: Tch, you’re making this way too hard for both! Just stay still and stop acting like I’m about to kill you!

Yui: ( I know his intentions aren’t bad, but this is getting too embarrassing…! )

( I’m sorry, Ayato-kun! )

— tries to push him away but falls down —

Yui: Oww…

Ayato: ( Geez, what a klutz. )

Haa… are you hurt?

— grabs her arm and picks her up —

Yui: Ah, I’m alright, no worries.

Ayato: Oi.

What’s that?

— picks something up —

Yui: ….!

Ayato: Is that… a letter for me?

— starts reading it —

You… you had it all this time with you and didn’t say a word?!

Yui: I… I can explain!

You see, I thought—

Ayato: Shut up!

Do you even have the slightest clue about what you just did!? I seriously doubt you understand how important king duties are, do you?

Hah, of course, you don’t! Why would you?

You sit around doing absolutely nothing all day while I’m working my ass off to make sure you and everyone else can live comfortably!

I’m out here putting in the effort, grinding to create a decent life, not just for you, but for everyone, even if I didn’t ask for this shit. And you do this to me!?

I thought you matured too, but at the end of the day, you’re nothing but a selfish bitch!

Yui: Wait! Ayato-ku—

Ayato: Don’t touch me!

Yui: …!

Please, listen to me!

— grabs his clothes —

Ayato: Quiet! I’m not risking to go through that again only because of someone like you. Get lost!

— pushes her away and leaves —

Yui: …!

No… No… this can’t be the end…

How… How could I be this stupid…? Hhn… Ngh…

Kuh… Ayato-kun.. Nhn…

Place: Avenue

Ayato: (Fuck! I can’t return to the Demon World right now. )

( On top of that, why the hell am I the one feeling guilty now!? )

( She… Yes, she deserved that treatment. That’s what she gets for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Besides, what she did could lead to something dangerous. )

( It’s not the first time she pulls such shit on me anyway, but… )

( Why can’t I stay mad at her no matter what she does to me…? )

Tch, such bullsh— Hah?

Guy 1: Aww, she’s playing hard to get~!

Guy 2: Aren’t you a bit too feisty for a crybaby?

???: S-Stop it! Leave me alone!

Ayato: …!

( That voice… Yui! )

Place: Alley

Yui: I-I told you to stop!

Guy 1: Just come with us, it’ll be fun~.

Yui: No, I don’t want to!

Guy 2: She keeps struggling, isn’t she cu——

— gets punched —

Guy 1: What the—

Guy 2: Such strength!

Yui: Eh?

Ayato: Get out of my sight, you bastards! If you don’t leave this girl alone right now, I’ll make sure your already disgusting faces get even worse!

— they start running away —

Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you!

( He came back for me… )

Ayato: ….

— grabs her hand and starts walking —

*Timeskip*

Yui: ( Ever since Ayato-kun saved me, he hasn’t spoken a word. )

( It’s obvious that he’s mad… )

( But if both of us keep quiet, this conflict will never be solved… )

Ayato & Yui simultaneously: I’m sorry.

Yui: ( Eh? Did he just— )

No… I’m the one who should apologize. I hid that letter, knowing full well the consequences it could have.

However… I only did it because I wanted Ayato-kun to have some free time for himself too.

Ayato: You…

Yui: I’m aware of how much work you have to do, and being king is definitely not easy. That’s why, I really admire your for that.

Nevertheless, it saddens me seeing Ayato-kun so stressed out and exhausted. I want Ayato-kun to be always as energetic and cheerful as he was today, but… I do realize that I’m just being selfish.

Ayato: No… You… You’re not selfish, I am.

I was the one who didn’t listen to your side of the story. It’s just... I’m afraid of failing as king. There, I said it!

I don’t want to put the people I care for in danger, nor can’t I accept being a worse king than that old fart, so all I have to do is carry out my duties. Hell yeah, they’re a pain in the ass but that’s my responsibility now, which is why I can’t back off.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun… I never thought you felt that way… )

N-no, the way you reacted was understandable. Anyone under that much stress might have done the same, and I can’t blame you for it.

Besides, I can’t say your words were wrong. I am indeed incapable of fully understanding the challenges you face, however… no matter what happens, I want you to know that you’ll always be the best king to me…!

Ayato: …!

Heh… you really never change.

— hugs her—

Yui: W-Well, I suppose I can’t change if I do nothing all day.

Ayato: Hmph, are you throwing shade at me for what I told you?

Yui: Eh? No way, it was just a coincidence! I swear!

Ayato: Pfft, proved my point. You'll forever stay the clumsy, stupid, and oddly adorable woman that you are.

Yui: Hey, that’s backhan— Mm…!

Ayato: Nn…

Yui: ( Ayato-kun… his kiss is so gentle… )

( I really missed Ayato-kun’s kisses. I’m so happy…! )

Ayato: Oi, don’t tell me you’re about to cry again.

Yui: I’m not but…

I just want to know, will the letter get Ayato-kun in troubles…?

Ayato: I might get some weird looks for not showing up on time, and maybe a lecture or two, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I was supposed to start on them today since there’s a lot, but... I think I’d rather spend my time with my girl instead.

Yui: Is that so? Thank you.

But doesn't that mean you'll have to work even harder to make up for today?

Ayato: I guess it can’t be helped. I don’t want to think of tomorrow, all I want is to focus on the present.

Yui: Fufu, I see. By the way…

Will you uhm… stay overnight too?

Ayato: Heh~? Is that supposed to be a sex invitation?

Yui: I… T-That’s—!

Ayato: Heh~, don’t even try to get out of it, it’s written all over your face.

Rest assured though, the invitation is accepted~.

— Smooch —

[factual-fantasy]

25 asks! Thank you!! :}} 🫶

@tiredbeanperson

Thank you so much!! :DD Also I've been drawing literally as far back as I can remember.. I cant remember a time when drawing wasn't my favorite hobby.. so its hard to say what inspired me <:( however I do remember drawing sonic characters a lot back then! I also had some Sonic games. Maybe seeing Sonic in the games was what inspired me to stop using coloring books and draw for myself..? :0

Nowadays though drawing is my number 1 passion. I absolutely love to draw not only just for the physical act of drawing, but also to draw characters I like and tell stories and make characters and draw expressions and make gifts for people and WARRGHH :DDDDD

With this health crisis I'm going through, art has been a HUGE help. It keeps my mind busy and gives my fidgety hands something to do. I have other hobbies too, sewing, video games, writing.. but I only turn to those in attempts to recover from/get past art block faster. Art is truly my #1 passion💞💞

@chumkinboy2

I'm open to FNAF stuff! But keep and mind that I'm fixated on other things so I miiight not get around to it <XD but feel free to send it anyways though! :))

@zeanenica

Thank you! :DD Also that's why I never finished it, I could never decide/write down what happens next 💀 Just know that Ingo and Emmet were both intended to survive and make it back home to Unova-

@candyglumboy

They're kind'a odd Pokémon.. but I ADORE the color palette of Terapagos. So prettyyyy 😭💞💞💞

Oooo good question.. My first thought was Sylveon. Having a Pokémon that adored me and could calm me down by simply holding my hand would be soooo nice at this time in my life 😭😭💞💞💞

@mintbnny

I was so unprepared for that name XD 10/10 plant

@cozy-bea

The first thing that came to mind was Glamrock Freddy being a Bewear and Monty being a krookodile XDD Perhaps Roxanne would be a midnight lycanroc.. Chica could beeee... and unfezant? Maybe a blaziken?.. Hmm..

As for Gregory, the first thing that came to mind was an Eevee. But that's way too cliché XD Maybe a Toxel instead? Or maybe Freddy would be his Pokémon-

I don't really have a birth order in mind.. but I do know I want the runt to be the youngest of the 4 brothers.

I do have plans to give them different personalities. The runt will be shy and skittish. The big one will be the tough "I must protect my brothers and my mama" type. While also being one to punch first and ask questions later XD

The normal one is meant to be a little clumsy and not super smart. <XD He sees something shiny and he just happily runs over to it. Not thinking twice if what he's dong is a bad idea-

The shiny one is the smart one and kind of the "leader". If the piglets are ever on their own they will look to the shiny brother for guidance. He's smaller than the normal and big one but he will still fight if he has to.

I pictured Zorua being viewed as a little sister by the piglets, but maybe as an equal to the runt :00

AWWWW,,, THATS ADORABLE 😭😭💞💞💞💞

(In response to this post)

Thank you, and aw.. that's a beautiful name. Your rabbit must have been adorable.. Mine was a lionhead. I'm sorry for your loss.. <:(

Thank you, <:)) I'm hoping the same.. 😔😔

@mansion-of-haunts

Well hopefully with the "check FAQ pin" on the ask button that wont happen again. Thank you for coming back and apologizing though, that was really kind of you <:))))) thou is forgiven 😌😌

I DO like clowns! :)) They're fun to draw but hard to design well 💀

Black and white.. are you talking about Ingo and Emmet? :0 They're subway bosses, not salior men! <:D

@unpopularartist14 (In response to this post)

Yeah I've heard about those, I personally never do them <XDD

Also that's great! I'm glad I was able to help at least a little! :))

I'm glad my artwork is helping you through your grief, even if only a little.. I hope it continues to help.. Hang in there friend <:) 💞

Nah no worries! Thank you,, Its nice to hear. <:)) I'm managing as best I can..

@dorykitcat24

Its very possible! I had plans for her to at the very least pick up on some fire type moves :))

@captain-skyler1987

Woah! That was you all those times? :00 I'm really bad at remembering names so I recognize people by their profile pictures. I hadn't realized it was you!

Also no problem! Thank YOU for sending in asks! :DD Comments and asks are my favorite thing to receive on Tumblr. So I appreciate all the messages you've sent! :))

@smithanonsworld

If this was real life, I would have freaked out and swatted it away XD But considering I'm able to admire its beauty from behind a screen,, sure! I'll hold it for you! :) Good luck on your taxes! <:/

@rajou62

I know of the RAT! :D He's from the FNAF fangame candy's 3 right? Along side the CAT if I remember correctly..

I don't know who the Absolute solver is, but I can see that she's from Murder drones. I was never interested in that show, I really didn't like the art style.. <:/

(Referencing this post)

Don't know what Danganronpa is, but I have a feeling that you're right <XD

(Referencing this ask)

Oh don't worry about me, I have no intentions to interact with that fandom whatso ever. 😅

@pink088

I'm glad to hear you're feeling better! :)

As far as I've seen its a mascot horror game on Roblox, right? :0 I know nothing about it/have no opinion on it beyond that. <:/

I've heard of it, but I'm not personally interested... I wonder what diehard transformers fans think of it :000

[brandogenius]

can I request a hc about attending an awards show (the grammys?) with jb? 😌

i can indeed darling! i’m so proud of our boys! 3 grammys they won today! couldn’t be any more prouder!

(not proofread)

HC - attending the grammys with julien!

- attending the grammys with julien is a once in a life time experience you’ll never forget

- hand in hand for photos, julien dressed in her white suit whilst you are dressed in a long black dress. black and white they compliment each other

- of course both of you break the internet by proudly showing off your hickeys on each others necks

- the atmosphere is so loud and overwhelming , it’s your first time at an award show, julien has her hands around your waist at all times.

- in a protective manner and to make sure you don’t get lost. hands on your waist or thigh. holding onto your hand. she’ll make sure you don’t get lost.

- presuming you and the boys all sit together at a table, julien and you sit beside each other. juliens hand on your thigh, reassuring you.

- holding onto juliens hand tightly with one hand and crossing your fingers in a silent prayer in the other when their categories come up

- the minute they were best rock performance winners for not strong enough you just started sobbing.

- the first thing julien does is stand up and hug you. kissing you long and softly before going up to collect her award.

- the first person julien thanks in her speech is you. talking about how you have been her rock and the most important people in her life to help her get through it all

- “i want to thank my beautiful girlfriend. the most important person to me”

- going back to their chairs after the speeches you’re dabbing your face to try and stop the tears.

- it’s such an emotional night for you and the boys. you’re so proud of them.

- second and third award for best rock song and best alternative album has you crying again you’re sure your makeup is ruined.

- yet again, julien stands up and kisses you smiling into the kiss.

- it was such an amazing night for everyone.

- going back stage with julien after the event julien holds into your hand tightly, tears stained on her face with a big grin.

- your lipstick is stained all over her face but she couldn’t care less.

- she ends up dragging you in with her to take some photos even if you ended up being a bit shy.

- spam posting on twitter during intervals you tweet about the boys winning and crying about it. rting a lot of posts

- you have a bit of a big following on twitter anyway. most of it being from being juliens girlfriend and boygenius’s no1 defender.

- boygenius twt fandom loves you. so crying on the timeline about your girlfriend winning a grammy has multiple other people crying in the comments section with you

- julien posting photos on instagram with you holding the grammys together

- going back to the hotel together both of you are still pretty emotional from the events that happened

- a tired and sleepy bath together. washing each others hair

- “i’m so proud of you julien. couldn’t be more prouder”

- the praise you give your girlfriend along with the tiredness crashing into her from the adrenaline that happened a few hours ago has her tearing up in the bathtub

- just a small emotional moment. julien realising where she is in the moment. 3 time grammy winner, in a warm bath surrounded by love and affection. it makes her heart burst with happiness

- she definitely becomes the little spoon for the night.

- the wave of emotion hitting her like a ton of bricks realising the events of today like a delayed reaction has her silently crying in your neck

- obviously you let her have her moment. letting julien melt into your chest as you run your hands through her hair. julien slowly falling asleep to the sounds of your small hums and praises

- you can only pray that next year there’ll be more grammy nominations and wins to come

im so sorry if this isn’t good :( a bit rushed! i reallt felt excited to do this and with the boys grammy wins tonight it was fresh in my mind!

[thornsnvultures]

bending the rules

older!dilf!Steve Harrington x plus size!fem!Reader

summary: Robin convinces Steve to take a yoga class only to bail on him at the last minute.

cw: alt universe/non-canon, awkward!divorced!Steve (he's been out the game for a minute), fluff, 1.7k words

an: I have like half of a smutty bit for this fic written but it felt kind of tacked on so I left it off. if enough people enjoy this I'll post that bit later. also thank you to @hellfirehottie420 for the yoga class idea and to @ozarkthedog for gassing me up and encouraging me to keep going when I wanted to give up! It's not a big fic but we celebrate little victories here. (divider by @/saradika)

an 2: the model in the moodboard is not representative of the reader insert. there's no physical descriptions in the fic. I just didn't want anyone giving me a hard time with that "fat people can't do yoga" shit. every body is a yoga body. thank you 😌

After Steve's marriage fell through he resigned himself to never doing that again. He made a mess of things the first time around anyway. And not knowing what a happy, stable marriage looked like growing up sure didn't help either.

So when things finally imploded he took it on the chin and vowed to be the best dad he could be. He wouldn't let his failed marriage take that away from him. Dating was off the table and for a long time casual hookups were too; it never felt like the right time.

Robin had insisted on him getting out there, doing something for himself that didn't involve kids or work. Steve used to have fun, he was the king of fun! Now he was sure he wouldn't know fun if it hit him in the face with a bat. And he sure as hell doesn't know how he let Robin talk him into taking a yoga class at the town rec center.

She was supposed to be here, to help ease him into having some semblance of a social life, but she bailed at the last minute blaming a mix up in her schedule.

"I forgot I already told Nance I'd take her out tonight. Just go! I'll come with you next week, I promise."

Steve sighed, standing outside the classroom doors with his hands on his hips. He can see a few people milling around, chatting and rolling out mats as he hesitates there in the hallway.

"It'll be fine. Just go in, stretch out some old joints and go home. Easy. Nothing to be afraid of. You're not afraid," Steve shook his head. Standing outside and talking to himself wasn’t a good look. Not with this mustache on his face.

He looked through the windowed doors and swallowed, "It's just a room full of women in spandex. You're not a creep, it's exercise, you're here to exercise."

"First time?"

Steve nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees you standing there smirking at him. Your eyebrows rise and you gesture to the rolled up mat under your arm when Steve takes a little too long to respond.

Shit, should he have brought his own mat?

"Yeah,” Steve croaks and you smile. “I mean, yes. This is the beginner's yoga class, right? My friend was supposed to do it with me but she bailed."

“Ah,” your smile falters a little but you nod and open the classroom doors leaving Steve to wonder what he said wrong.

"They have mats over there if you need one," you point to the stack on the other side of the room then introduce yourself. Steve knows he's staring at you like a hapless idiot but he successfully remembers to give you his name in return, along with an awkward handshake.

"Thank you," Steve doesn't want to let go of your hand, so warm and soft it's messing with his head. "Sorry, I'm, uh, I'm a little nervous. I haven't done anything like this since my 20s."

"What, exercise?"

Steve feels a twinge of pride at the way you glance down at his arm muscles. You furrow your brow and bite your lip and Steve knows you can tell by the way they swell under his short sleeves that you know that can't be true.

"No, I mean going out,” he shrugs, wiggling the mat in his arms, “trying something new."

"Ah," you nod your head and smile again and Steve wonders if you can hear how fast his heart's beating.

You're walking towards the front of the class now with your mat and Steve in tow, asking him what made him want to try yoga of all things. Steve admits his friend Robin had signed him up for the class and that he rarely gets out of the house these days.

“Oh, same,” you nod in understanding and Steve sighs in relief. “I’m so busy between work and going back to school that I barely have time for myself. The yoga studio is my happy place.”

Steve smiles and is about to ask you what you’re going to school for when he's stopped by the teacher suddenly clapping her hands together and calling for everyone to get settled so they can start.

"Can I?" Steve gestures at the spot next to you and you smile again.

"Absolutely."

---

The class passes in a sweaty blur. Steve thought he was in decent shape. He lifts weights in his garage at home, runs a few days a week, and generally takes care of his body. He was an athlete for god's sake, he's familiar with all that jazz. Nope. Steve nearly pulled a few muscles in his back he didn't know he had.

It also didn't help that the shorts he wore to class might've been a little too short. He hoped, for the sake of the woman behind him, that his thighs were the only things he was showing off during downward dog.

You, on the other hand, were a champ. Graceful in your movements and barely breaking a sweat. You admitted to him halfway through the class, as the teacher made her rounds correcting poses, that you usually took the more advanced class but liked to hop in on beginner class days as a refresher on basic poses.

"You're doing great!" You shoot Steve a thumbs up and he feels his face heat at your encouragement but sends a shaky thumbs up back.

Sweat lines his forehead and he pushes his flop of hair back when it falls in his face before moving on to the next pose. His glasses had slid down his face enough times that Steve stopped fussing with them and put them off to the side, but his hair he couldn't do anything about, unruly as it was.

He catches you watching him a few times, once in warrior pose when Steve accidently put the wrong foot forward and wound up facing the opposite direction as the rest of the class. The way you tried to hide your laugh when he pretended like he was surprised to see you there lit him up inside.

The next time he caught you was when he turned his head towards you while tucked in child's pose. It seemed like your eyes were on his legs, maybe checking to see if he was doing the pose right? When you realized he knew you were watching your eyes went wide. Steve smiled and you quickly turned your head back down to the mat. Maybe you weren't checking his form after all. Or maybe you were? Steve couldn’t wrap his head around it. Were you just being nice or had you been checking him out too?

As class wrapped up Steve rolled up his mat and thanked the teacher for her help, promising to not only come back next week but to bring a friend too. He couldn’t wait to make Robin suffer through an hour of this. And you, he had to thank you for making tonight one of the most enjoyable nights he'd had in a long time.

"So I'll see you next week?" You adjust your bag over your shoulder. Most of the rest of the class had left but you didn't look like you were in much of a rush.

"Yeah, I'd love to. I mean, I’ll be here. I had a lot of fun."

"Glad you tried something new?"

Steve swallows at your teasing smile, suddenly feeling like "something new" didn't mean yoga anymore. His eyes drifted down to the light sheen of sweat dotting your chest and he quickly pulled his gaze away.

"Definitely."

"Good," you nodded.

You were starting to walk away. Robin would kick his ass if he didn’t make a move.

"Hey! Uh," you turn around to see Steve reaching out for your arm before pulling his hand back. He stops and scratches the back of his head. "Do you, I mean, would you like to get coffee sometime? As a thank you for…y’know, helping me with my poses."

Steve smiles and hopes he doesn’t look like a dweeb when he fidgets and pushes up his glasses.

"Walk me back to my car?"

The corner of Steve's mouth tilts up and he motions for you to hand over your gym bag. Once it’s tucked into the crook of his arm he nods towards the door at the end of the hall.

"Ladies first."

---

"You looked like a lost puppy. But honestly, it wasn't the first time I've seen a man looking intimidated outside of a yoga studio."

Steve gapes at you as you laugh.

"I was...making sure I had the right room."

"Sure, big guy," you chuckled as you patted Steve's arm.

The two of you finally reach your car and you tap the unlock button but stop before opening the door.

“Thanks for walking me.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want you out here by yourself this late at night.”

A group of teens on bikes ride past the rec center a moment later, probably on their way to the well-lit basketball court on the other side of the building where a few other kids are already playing.

“Mhm. All these ruffians around. Why, a girl just doesn’t feel safe ‘round these parts anymore,” you tease in a shy southern belle accent.

Steve chuckles and ducks his head. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. And I'm glad you came tonight."

“Me too.”

Steve found himself inching closer to you as your back pressed against your car. "So will you? Get coffee with me, that is?"

You looked up at him through your pretty lashes and Steve didn't care about his age or his creaky joints or his fear of fun. He wanted to find himself again in your eyes. If you'd let him.

"What about your friend? The woman that was supposed to come with you tonight?"

"Hmm? Oh, Robin? I think she'd say you could do better," Steve grimaced, shaking his head. "Her girlfriend would say the same thing."

"Oh," you laugh into your hand. "Gotcha."

"Why'd you ask?"

"No reason. Coffee sounds great," you whisper and lift your chin to press a kiss to Steve's stubbled jaw.

He stands there in the parking lot long after you gave him your number, hastily scribbled on the back of a receipt pulled from your purse, and drove away.

He has to call Robin.

[sibylsleaves]

God not to be like that but you’ve literally got me all annoyed again because like. He literally could have just stopped at the dollar store and got workout sweat bands or something. Or a colored shirt that he could rip up and tie around his head. Like !!! things he could have easily taken off if he got called to work! His fellow helicopter pilots wouldnt have even had to know he was at a silly 80s karaoke party. I am squidward begging meme asking for buck to have a partner that even gives a tiny shit about him and his interests and passions. Buck im so sorry this happened to you, thank god you had the best night of your life with your favorite person anyways (im sorry Ive dragged you into this being annoyed at tommy space when you werent before. But yes if you could do danny devito tommy could have done 80s. And my own personal headcannon is eddie has 0 issues with tommy/bucktommy he was only acting like that because tommy put 0 effort in. Hes allowed to lowkey judge people for phoning in a costume at a theme party too!!)

i literally was there already because i was rewatching 7x04 NOT YOUR FAULT ANON!!! you were simply matching my energy. unlike. well.

actually that is so funny im adopting that headcanon now. eddie is ME judging my friend's other friends for not dressing up as danny devito!!!!! (thats not even true they DID dress up they just put in very minimal effort. something tommy could not even bring himself to do)

literally thank god buck had an amazing tequila fueled night of karaoke and drag queen dj sets and kicking down doors and ripping eddie's shirt off with his bare hands. it's what they both deserve 😌🌈

[catindabag]

TBOSAS on Crack short take (44)

Festus: Hi, Coryo, my cabbage loving bestie, how’s life?

Coryo: Not good, not great, not terrible. How’s detention?

Festus: Great!

Coryo: You skipped it again, didn’t you.😒

Festus: As always.😌

Coryo: Well, good for you-

Festus: Me and Pup are planning to dumpster dive today. Wanna join?

Coryo: Sure. I’ll go. Free food is free food.

Festus: Exactly!

Coryo: But which dumpster are we raiding now?

Pup: Highbottom’s.😌

Coryo: Sign me up! Let’s go-

Apollo: Hey, guys, can we join too?

Diana: Pretty please?🥺

Festus: The more the merrier!

Coryo: But Seriously, guys, we should go now before Highbottom finds out and punish us again-

Sejanus: Hey, Coryo, my ✨LOVE✨, can I dumpster dive with you too?

Coryo: Why would you want to dumpster dive for food? You’re rich-

Sejanus: But I’ll protect you-

Coryo: From what? From rats??

Sejanus: Yes! So please take me with you!🥺🙏

Coryo: Okay, Babe. You can be our lookout.

Sejanus: Yey! Thanks, Coryo, my love, you’re the best!😘

Coryo: Sure. Whatever you say, Babe.

Pup: By the way, whose car are we taking?

Festus: Sorry. We can’t take mine. My mama said no.

Sejanus: My scheming old man will strangle me if he ever finds out.

Apollo: I only have a tiny scooter.

Diana: Me too.😞

Coryo: Well, don’t look at me. You all know that I don’t have a car-

Sejanus: I can give you one, my love!

Coryo: Not now, Babe.

Diana: Oh, I have an idea! We should just borrow Highbottom’s car instead!

Festus: Or Livia’s hot pink limousine.

Coryo: The one that sparkles under the sun?

Diana: How about we take both?

Apollo: That’s brilliant!

Sejanus: But we don’t have their car keys-

Androcles: Luckily, I already have them with me.😎

Apollo: Andie?!

Coryo: When did you get here?!

Festus: Shouldn’t you be in detention with me?!

Androcles: Detention? Never heard of her. But anyway, I got Livia’s sparkly car keys-

Diana: You stole them.

Androcles: Of course~.😏

Pup: But how did you get Highbottom’s?

Androcles: Felix gave them to me for safe keeping after that last fiasco-

Coryo: You mean that infamous ✨WinterFest✨ incident where drunk Highbottom tried to ram his car into Heavensbee Hall when Strabo Plinth asked me to dance with him?

Sejanus: To be fair, my drunk old man thought you were the infamously gorgeous Crassus Snow.

Coryo: Don’t remind me.😞

Androcles: Yup! That’s the one.

Apollo: Well, Andie, can you drive?

Androcles: No. But I have this fake driver’s license that I’ve stolen from Dennis last week. So-

Pup: That’s a yes for me!

Festus: I’ll drive!😎

Apollo: But I wanna drive.🥺

Diana: I call shotgun!

Coryo: Could be worse. Let’s go, Babe.

Sejanus: Best day ever!😍

*Hours later, inside Casca’s office*

Prof.Sickle: Sir, I think you need to turn on the news.

Casca: Why? It’s too early for me to watch Weather Boy embarrass himself in front of Panem-

Prof.Sickle: Just turn on the TV.

Casca: Ugh! Fine! There-

Lucky: Breaking News! Seven students from a certain Capitol Academy were caught recklessly driving the exclusive hot pink limousine of Monster Cardew- I mean, Mrs. Cardew!

Casca: I’m pretty sure those idiots don’t go to my school-

Lucky: Mr. Snow, are you aware that reckless driving is a serious crime?

Coryo: They just kidnapped me and my boyfriend, officer!

Sejanus: We’re innocent!

Pup: I don’t know these people!

Apollo: I’m too pretty for prison!

Diana: Livia gave us permission!

Androcles: You can’t arrest me! I’m a minor!

Festus: Dean Highbottom made us do it!

Lucky: Ok. Well, you heard it from them, folks! Dean Highbottom made them do it! Back to you, Malmsey!

Casca: FML.😩🔪

[masakuterarr]

Uvogin Headcanons Time (cute this time)

Fuck it. More uvo hc cuz 👏 I 👏 Can 👏

Since I can't draw much atm bc of my physical state (I am ill since 3 weeks cuz there's something called delayed period after medications 🫠 I have been half dead, half like I am the best doing person alive for 3 weeks now. It's great. Not. I hate it. It's getting better tho.) So bc of that, all I can give u are HCs. You will like anyways. I hope you do. You better do or I'll visit you in your sleep. Anyways lemme open the dinner 👏

(also some of them happened during one of the... Many... Talks with @monosanimegenericzone, so thank you sweet heart for giving me more and more ideas for the endless list of Uvogin HCs 💅✨

Uvo is a ff dog. Nothing new, I know, but I wanna elaborate more on that. You can turn (with u I mean 3 people out of the troupe cuz anyone else would get killed by uvo for doing that. These 3 people are chrollo, shal and Nobunaga) uvogin into a ff puppy. A purring puppy. Doesn't make sense but u know what I mean.

Like lemme go through the list

belly rubs(the best of the best)

2. Chin rubs (he barely let's anyone touch the part of his neck/chin cuz it's sensitive UwU)

3. Behind his ear (cuz it good)

4. His hand palm. (Scratch it and he starts purring like a Lil kitty. It's good)

Also I am 100% convinced that if you just slightly on accident Touch uvogins inner thighs, he dies. Like literally. He freezes and turns into a ff mess of gibberish and stumbling over his own words. Cuz hear me out. Uvogin is ff ticklish and I'll fight over this with my life.

I KNOW HE HAS IRON SKIN. BUT ITS ONLY A PROTECTION FOR ROUGH AND HARSH AND SHARP INCOMMING DAMAGE. light touches with your fingertip? Nah sir he can't block that with his skin. He feels everything and he's going crazy over it cuz he is absolutely everything BUT used to soft touches.

Shal probably often chases him bc he loves to tease uvo with it. And uvo doesn't know what to do. I think he likes it on one hand but at the other hand he gets so overwhelmed by it. And it's the cutest shit imagineable in my head.

Go with a finger over his spine and he does a funny dance while just verbally keysmashing. I love it. I live for it. And it's by far my favorite hc of uvogin.

Also I had this scene in my head. Shalnark giving vuo belly rubs (hihi cute) and Nobunaga just goes by and looks over it like "nah shal u doing it wrong" and he just ff snitches on uvogin, cuz yeah again, nobu does know everything of this man, and uvo is like "u ff traitor"

So to do the snitching, I know it cuz Nobunaga told me himself, u have to combine gently but rough belly rubs with a bit of softness on slight tickling on his sides. 😌 Keeps him on the edge 🫠

Normally I would already sink into the ground out of emberassment over just writing this out. But I blame it on my medication that I give 0 fucks rn. So see this as a win. I will probably sink into emberassment when I read this tomorrow again :D

[leopardom]

✨ sappy post incoming ✨

(and a little trigger warrning for the vague mention of suicide)

i’m not gonna do any gig reports for now because last week still feels like a fever dream and i can’t really put my thoughts in an order that makes sense. but i just wanted to stop by to say how much i love the vibes and creativity of this fandom and how happy everyone was when it came to meeting and trading/giving out their creations while queueing for the gigs or even when they were over

in Munich, Milan and Padova i got to meet so many people from here. with some of them i chatted more and with some others less. but in any case it absolutely warmed my heart to finally see all those people i see on tumblr but like, in real life! i got to trade my stickers for bracelets/stickers/art/fan stuff, got to see everyone have a good laugh because of my stuff and also got to complement people for their crafts. and i'm telling you i really meant every single word because as i already mentioned, i love the creativity of this fandom 💕

last weekend i began my trip with pretty much nothing on me and now i'm back home with a bag full of bracelets, a folder full of art and a heart so full i wanna cry. i mean look at that:

1) idek where to begin with the tags of the artists, i’m still confusion but i’ll try to come back to this post again later with a clearer mind

2) “big juicy” bracelet you will always be famous @greensolsikke <3

this last week was a tiring experience with many ups and downs but at the same time it was probably the best week of my life so far

i'm getting especially emotional about it all because this whole frenzy concided with my birthday (on the 29th of March). this may sound cringe or what, but on the actual day of my birthday and when everything was over, i was sitting alone on my hotel bed in Milan and was thinking how this last year of my life started in the worst way possible and how it was only escallating towards the worst every single day. during my 26 i reached a new level of low, a bottom lower than the one i had reached when i was 20-21 (and that was a bad bad time). and yes, there were a few times when i was close to ending it all because it was too much. my 26 was pretty much like hell

but now i'm glad i didn't give up and pushed through all the struggles. because if i hadn't, i wouldn't be able to experience last week. i wouldn't be able to see some of my dearest friends again, to meet all the amazing people from here and from twitter, to see one of my favourite bands perform for three nights in-a-row and to listen to all my fave songs of theirs live and even cry my eyes out to some of them (Barve Oceana in Munich, Padam in Milan and Metulji in Padova really were an Experience). can safely say that my 26 ended with a bang and it was a very good one 😌

i'm feeling sad that this is over but at the same time i'm so warm inside and so happy that it happened. and i would do it all over again, especially if it meant meeting you all again or meeting even more of you from in here. i have never felt so welcome by people who technically only knew me as a tumblr user and i never thought this would happen, considering how awkward i am when it comes to interacting with people online and in real life

anyway i think i've talked too much and i'm slowly loosing my train of thought because the thoughts and emotions are so many right now. i just wanna thank each and every single one of you for making the past week so special and one of the best weeks of my life. i'm beyond gratefull 💖

sincerely, the curly head with the meme stickers 🫶

[solar-wing]

Firstly, can I just say you’re so fucking talented✨ Your writing is freaking amazing, the excitement I get when I read your works especially the ones with my husband Mr. Jason Todd and my boyfriend Conner!

Definitely deserves all your flowers because bitchhhhh, you have be having me smiling so hard as I read the unholy things these men be doing.

Okay, enough fan girling because I could definitely go on and on, but my request is for Sky from Fate: the Winx Saga falling in love with a powerful badass yet nerdy water fairy who Stella is totally jealous of.

You know you can add some Pound Town action..😏

Can’t wait to see it and again i love your fucking work, please never stop writing!

The way you people get 20k+ fics and series out of me needs to be studied. Your pound-town action will come, but, you've gone and pulled me into the one trope I hate reading... a fucking slow-burn.

CURSES!

gonna do my best (even if y'all want the opposite) to not drag this on and keep it short, but knowing me, I don't have much confidence in that ability.

alright...anyway.

thank you so much for the love and thank yeeewwww, ugh stop you guys shower me with too many compliments (but also like don't stop tee hee)

💧 | Heroes of You and Me | Water Fairy Male Reader | 💧

enjoy...😌☀️

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

The Man From Y.I.L.I.N.G.

Chapter 3: "A Rough Day All Around"

There's some research for this chapter as well that I'll post about in about half an hour after this like the last. Remember, if you want to see the footnotes integrated into the fic directly, that's how it's structured over on AO3 😌 (I worked very hard on formatting those and I'm very proud, can you tell?)

--//--

LANE CRAWFORD LUXURY DEPARTMENT STORE — HONG KONG

“I don’t understand.”

Jin Guangyao keeps a sigh tucked in his chest, but only because Lan Xichen has been nothing but extremely nice to him, even when he’d been under extreme stress and they’d both thought they’d never see each other again anyway. But this is also at least the fifth time he’s said he doesn’t understand just this afternoon alone, and Jin Guangyao’s patience for people (even very nice, extremely handsome people) is not as infinite as it seems.

“Which part?”

Lan Xichen looks up at him from where he’s been staring down at himself, dressed in new suit (without a single cardigan in sight, thank you very much) and standing on a little round platform in front of a three-paneled mirror to see himself from several angles. Around them a few shopgirls bustle to and fro finding ever-more pieces to bring for Lan Xichen to try on at Jin Guangyao’s direction, and for the past few hours he’s been trying not to feel any sort of particular way about the fact that Lan Xichen always thanks them softly with kind smiles (even though he also clearly wishes they would stop bringing him clothing he doesn’t seem to like).

“Ah…I realize I have been repeating myself, I apologize,” he demurs. Jin Guangyao raises an eyebrow (people never apologize, and certainly not to him). “It’s just that…the Jin have really decided to ally with the Wen? Openly?”

“For now, at least. Yes.”

“Mm.” Lan Xichen turns back to the mirror; in the left-hand reflection Jin Guangyao can see he looks…conflicted.

“It just doesn’t seem very likely, you must understand. And I must say I still don’t see exactly how I fit into all of this; my family has been involved in very little save rebuilding our home since just after the war.”

Jin Guangyao, who has definitely explained Lan Xichen’s role in all of this at least twice since he retrieved the man from Mo Xuanyu at the harbor this morning, leans back into his chair and crosses one leg over the other, the movement masking the little sigh he can no longer care about keeping contained.

“I know it seems unlikely, and I admit I was as surprised as you. However, that is what’s happened, which should give you an indication of just how important it is that we find your brother and stop the Yiling Laozu’s plans. As for how you fit into it — you say you haven’t seen him in years, but Lan Wangji is still your brother, and you’re our best hope of getting to him quickly, especially if he’s in danger. You’re also our best hope of speaking to your uncle, who is notoriously difficult to reach but has been seen in contact with the Jiang, who we think may have been secretly helping the Yiling Laozu in much more than just the capture of your brother. You’ll be able to help us find out for certain, and in doing so find your brother, get him to safety, and prevent the nuclear death of the planet. Everybody wins.”

Lan Xichen blinks at him a few times in the mirror, perhaps ever so slightly overwhelmed. To be fair, he supposes it’s not every day a former scholar turned music teacher is asked to commit espionage amongst his own family in order to prevent an all-out international nuclear war. It must be quite a bit to take in.

Lan Xichen blinks furiously as he tugs too hard at the lapels of the suit jacket Jin Guangyao had chosen for him as if he can’t get it to settle correctly on his (surprisingly) broad shoulders. “And when this is over?” he asks as he fusses. “Am I to hide again? I made a decent life for myself out of necessity in Yunping, but I have no interest in going back behind that Wall, not even for my own safety. Will you show me my family after so long only to force me away from them again after I’ve served your father’s purposes?”

For a moment, Jin Guangyao marvels at how similar he would have been to Lan Xichen if they’d only met a few years earlier. How much he would once have given (has given, is giving) in order to not have to be parted from his family, no matter the circumstances. He isn’t sure how happy it makes him any longer, but he’s in too deep now to be comfortable with thinking about that too hard.

“You’re the lynchpin in this whole plan,” Jin Guangyao says to cover his momentary (and throughly unwelcome) introspection. His eyes flicker over to Nie Mingjue just stepping into the luxurious private consultation area they’re currently occupying and he spares a thought to acknowledge, with a sense of foreboding, that this is most likely about to go downhill quicker than he can prevent it, but ultimately keeps his focus on the conversation at hand. “Without you, our hands would be tied. When this is over, you won’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. I promise.”

“My man would never wear that.”

Jin Guangyao lets out another sigh, perfectly audible this time, and covers his eyes to allow himself a moment or two to lament his…partner’s (ugh) shattering lack of tact when Lan Xichen is clearly two seconds away from bolting right out the door to begin with.

“Your man?” Lan Xichen repeats, affronted. “A-Yao, what is he doing here?”

“As we were just discussing — we are working with the Wens.” Jin Guangyao dares to open his eyes to find Nie Mingjue standing too close to Lan Xichen (read: looming over him), eyes burning in that eerily intense way he seems to look at anybody and anything in his way. “More specifically Wen Ruohan’s pet giant, the Red Blade himself.”

Nie Mingjue ignores him in favor of looking Lan Xichen up and down in a way that makes the man’s ears turn bright red even as his expression twists up into deeper offense at being so clearly found wanting by the time Nie Mingjue’s gaze is once again on his face.

“And why did he call me his man?”

“Because I am now your fiancé.”

Jin Guangyao has a warning smile on his face that many marks have seen in their final moments on this earth, but Nie Mingjue just raises an eyebrow back at him in a silent challenge he obviously knows Jin Guangyao is in no position to rise to. Lan Xichen glances between the two of them sharply before he laughs a hollow sort of disbelieving thing and takes a step back, hands raised to shoulder height in surrender, or perhaps refusal.

“No. Absolutely not. No, no-no,” he says, still laughing, still smiling but seeming more…hysterical than any flavor of amused. He shrugs off the suit jacket Jin Guangyao had put him in and takes the (incredibly expensive) watch off his wrist with enough vigor that Jin Guangyao nearly winces for the sake of the leather wristband. He lets both of them drop unceremoniously to the floor, whips his tie off with a yank and the whisper-soft slither of silk against starched cotton to drop it on the unoccupied loveseat in the seating area Jin Guangyao has been lounging in — and heads straight for the door.

“Oh well done,” Jin Guangyao drawls as he stands from his velvet armchair and buttons his jacket on his way across the consultation area. “Stay here, I’ll bring him back.” He swats Nie Mingjue’s chest on his way past him to follow Lan Xichen’s path out to the street.

Lan Xichen mercifully hasn’t gone far on those long legs of his, just down to the curb to stand with his hands on his hips as he stares down at his feet and takes a few deep, too-fast breaths. Jin Guangyao feels a slight pang of pity. He’s aware that this isn’t an easy task they’ve set for him, but he’s maybe grown a bit too used to doing what needs to be done, no matter the personal cost to himself. Lan Xichen’s perfectly understandable reactions are a decent reminder that what they do every day is…stressful, to say the least.

“Huan-ge,” he calls, hoping the use of the too-familiar nickname will help startle his companion out of his frustration. “I can explain.”

Lan Xichen looks up from his study of the pavement (or perhaps the designer shoes Jin Guangyao had selected for him) to stare him down instead, his gaze a desperate challenge, as if whatever Jin Guangyao says to soothe him will be the only thing that he can stand to hear.

“The engagement is just your cover. He’s an architect who’s been commissioned to design a new resort for Wen Ruohan’s favorites back in Qishan. Wen Ruohan has a fondness for old-world grandeur and would like to send your man in there to study the remaining traditional structures in Yiling for the project. Mingjue has also secured permission to bring along his fiancé —” Jin Guangyao gestures at Lan Xichen in a way that also encompasses the very nice suit Jin Guangyao is attempting to get him to accept “— and of course while everyone conveniently happens to be in the same area you would want to introduce him to your Uncle Qiren, who you haven’t seen in such a long time.”

Lan Xichen’s gaze doesn’t waver but it does…soften ever so slightly, though it’s clear he’s still not thrilled about any of this. Not that Jin Guangyao would expect him to be, either. It’s not like he’d be jumping at the chance to call Nie Mingjue his fiancé if their positions were reversed, no matter what it would net him in the end.

“And your cover? You’re coming as well, are you not?”

“Ah of course —— Meng Yao, arts and antiquities dealer,” Jin Guangyao replies with a sweeping gesture at himself and a pasted-on smile, though a tiny part of him is genuinely pleased that Lan Xichen sort of seems like he’s hoping Jin Guangyao will be tagging along. “The Jiang siblings have managed to establish one of the best collections in China in the years they’ve been busy rebuilding their fortune, and I’d like to take a look at it. They’re currently in Yiling paying a visit to some of their waterfront shipping and storage facilities, so I’ll be looking to get in contact with them there when they’re not so busy as they are in Yunmeng.”

Lan Xichen takes a deep breath in and looks away, glancing across the street to watch the rest of the world pass them by for a long moment before he meets Jin Guangyao’s eyes again.

“You are asking quite a lot of me,” he says quietly, achingly earnest. Jin Guangyao can count the number of people capable of softening his heart on one hand; he’s not entirely sure how he feels about Lan Xichen adding himself to the list so easily.

“It’ll be alright,” he reassures with a softness he hasn’t heard from himself in…quite some time. “You’ll do fine, I know it.”

Lan Xichen takes another deep breath in, flicks another quick glance at the rest of the street, and then he nods and gestures for Jin Guangyao to return inside ahead of him so he can hold the door. Jin Guangyao feels completely and utterly normal about even that small glimpse of chivalry being aimed at him, of all people.

The soft feeling lasts approximately forty-two seconds by his estimation, right until they make it back to the little private alcove to find Nie Mingjue surrounded by all three shopgirls assigned to help them, each of them holding out various pieces so clearly out of Lan Xichen’s comfort zone that Jin Guangyao wonders who the hell Nie Mingjue thinks he’s shopping for.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jin Guangyao demands. No one looks intimidated by the ice in his voice, and normally that just wouldn’t do. Unfortunately, this is not exactly the sort of situation where he can justify pulling out a knife for an extra bit of intimidation, so he just bites the inside of his cheek and keeps his most dangerous smile in place with military precision.

Nie Mingjue doesn’t look up from the fitted qipao-inspired blouse he’s studying as he remarks, casually as you please, “Your taste is terrible, I’ll take over from here.”

“My taste is fine,” Jin Guangyao argues, ignoring the fact that if he has to argue it out loud that would typically imply the opposite. Nie Mingjue is just trying to irritate him, and damn him it’s working. “Who will ever believe that  a Lan has decided to experiment with pushing the boundaries of acceptable fashion? Especially Xichen, whose wardrobe consists entirely of standard issue trousers and cardigans?”

Nie Mingjue lays the shirt back down across one girl’s arms and turns to the next in line to pick up the matching trousers she’s holding, soft flowing things in pastel blue with a structured, fitted waist, strong front pleats that disappear into the soft fall of extra fabric just above the knee, and fashionably modern, geometric blocks of white over the deep hip pockets. It’s a jarring mix of old and new, and Jin Guangyao turns to gauge Lan Xichen’s reaction only to be dismayed to find him looking intrigued — a far cry from how uncomfortable he’d looked in Jin Guangyao’s choices.

Fucking bastard. (Nie Mingjue, not Lan Xichen.) (He’s already unfortunately endeared enough to Lan Xichen that he doesn’t actually want to think unkind things about him, which means it’s already far too late and Lan Xichen has no choice but to be added to the extremely short list of people Jin Guangyao would genuinely protect with his life.)

(Nie Mingjue is not on the list and is therefore free game to be the subject of whatever vitriol Jin Guangyao pleases.)

Nie Mingjue collects both the trousers and blouse to push them into Lan Xichen’s unresisting arms, his assessing gaze intense enough that Lan Xichen takes what looks like an automatic step back for a bit of space.

“Go put these on and come back, I’ll have accessories for you.”

Lan Xichen looks only mildly less put-out than before, but he does as he’s instructed and disappears into the curtained changing room without further complaint.

“What are you doing? I had everything handled,” Jin Guangyao grouses the moment they’re alone, snagging a string of pearls off a tray from the last girl’s arms to go over them with a critical eye, though he replaces the strand when he spots an imperfection in one just to the left of the center.

“You’re dressing him like an American.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” Jin Guangyao pins a smile in place and fixes Nie Mingjue with a look that he can only hope feels like he’s burning a hole through the man’s ridiculously thick skull.

Nie Mingjue looks down his nose at him like he’s a piece of gum on the sole of his Italian leather wingtips. “We are not American.”

“And that for some reason precludes a well-to-do, well-traveled ‘couple’ such as yourselves from dressing in the latest American fashions? Theirs is inspired by ours anyway!”

Nie Mingjue glares at him outright this time in the way his face always sort of looks, though Jin Guangyao will reluctantly acknowledge that he can read a hint of disdain in his general air of pissiness as well. How unfortunate, that he’s already reached the point of being able to translate the brute’s stupid face. Horrible, all of this is just the worst thing to happen to him — and he’s including the war and Italian prison in that list!

“The Americans copy the Europeans first and foremost, and not particularly well. Xichen should be dressed in the latest fashions here if he’s on my arm, I’ve never sold myself to the West and my partner should dress to reflect that. Besides — I can afford the best for my fiancé, he won’t need to be confined to your boring cheap suits with a disgustingly expensive watch to signal your ‘wealth’. Go do something else useless, I’ll dress him myself or else no one would ever believe we are engaged.”

Jin Guangyao, naturally, bristles at such a rude dismissal and soundly refuses to obey it. Nie Mingjue shoots him another dirty look, but then he’s too busy looking through the next round of accessories the shop attendants have brought them to make too much noise about Jin Guangyao sticking annoyingly close to his side to pass comment on whatever he damn well pleases, thank you very much.

“That doesn’t match,” he points out when Nie Mingjue has a leather belt stretched across his palms, examining the finish of it and the style of the buckle. (It’s at least an appropriately pale shade of tan, but he will not be acknowledging his lukewarm approval out loud, thank you very much.) Jin Guangyao sees a muscle in Nie Mingjue’s jaw jump and smirks to himself, adding a tally to his own column on the mental scoreboard he’s running.

“It does not have to match. It’s a complementary accessory and will match the others, not the entire outfit. Your dull monochromes look ridiculous and unimaginative, a wealthy creative’s fiancé would never be so…pedestrian.”

“Oh good lord,” Lan Xichen sighs. Jin Guangyao turns sharply to take a look at him and he will not admit that the qipao-inspired set is actually…lovely. Really lovely. How unfair. “You two are ridiculous, it’s a belt!”

“Clothes make or break a disguise, particularly where we’re going. It matters,” Nie Mingjue dismisses his protest with a wave of one enormous hand. He selects the belt, a set of leather suspenders, a watch, a necklace (not the flawed pearls), and a set of (admittedly tasteful) clip earrings from the tray held out to him by the shopgirl before he turns to put it all on Lan Xichen with brusque efficiency. If he sees the way Lan Xichen’s ears turn pink to be manhandled so casually he makes no acknowledgment of it (a good thing, considering how easily spooked Lan Xichen still seems to be).

“Where are we going, exactly? I know Yiling, but…where?” Lan Xichen asks as he fiddles with the unfamiliar weight of one of the earrings, very pointedly looking up and away from where Nie Mingjue has a hand half-in his trousers to button the suspenders to the inner lining of the waistband. Jin Guangyao wonders if it’s weird for him to be fighting a bitter battle against the urge to bite Nie Mingjue’s fingers clean off. Preferably while they’re still offending the sanctity of Lan Xichen’s narrow waist.

To distract himself from the uncomfortably vivid thought, he replies, “There is an extremely exclusive boating event being hosted by the Jiang siblings on the stretch of river between Yunmeng and Yiling, high society invitees only. Your uncle will have no choice but to attend considering his presence in Yiling isn’t a secret, so we must also go. We expect there will be no reason your uncle won’t invite you and your new fiancé as well once he’s made aware that you’re in the city.”

“My uncle has never been a man for social engagement no matter the pressures of others, particularly not those engagements that are a blatant excuse to get drunk in the middle of the day. What makes you so certain that he will break his decades-long habits to attend?”

“The little snake has good informants,” Nie Mingjue replies (it’s the first halfway-positive thing he’s said about the Jins, so of course it had to also be half-insult) and leans back to look Lan Xichen over again, now that he seems to be finished barreling right through any concept of boundaries or personal space. Jin Guangyao hates that Lan Xichen looks stunning, his already-slender waist made even trimmer by the deeply flared cut of his trousers, his broad shoulders somehow both softened and accentuated by the purely-decorative suspenders (there’s no way those trousers are sliding down when they’re that snug around his hips).

Nie Mingjue turns to look back at Jin Guangyao over his shoulder after a moment with an eyebrow raised as if to say, See? I fucking told you so. What he actually says is, “He looks better like this, even someone as tasteless as you must see it. I don’t think we’ll be needing you at all,” which is really just the same thing in a different flavor, the bastard.

Jin Guangyao fights back another urge to bite him and smiles instead.

“I’ll leave you to it, then. See you both in Yiling,” he says in parting with a half-bow and a step back towards the door. Lan Xichen looks briefly like he wants to say something, but Jin Guangyao turns on his heel to get out of there before he can. He’s got a flight to catch in his father’s private jet, and because Mo Xuanyu loves him, when Jin Guangyao arrives at the tarmac just off the harbor he’s greeted with a little bottle of the most expensive rice wine Jin Guangshan’s bottomless coffers can buy first, and a verbal greeting second.

“You look tired, Yao-ge,” Mo Xuanyu says as he gets settled in up in the cockpit and Jin Guangyao sinks gratefully into the buttery soft leather seat nearest the galley so they can chat over the ‘com.

“You always say that,” he reminds his brother. Jin Guangyao promptly decides to forgo propriety in favor of drinking a few sips of his wine straight from the bottle; it’s not as if Mo Xuanyu cares about propriety anyway, and they’re the only ones here.

“It’s true every time, too. Seatbelt, ge.”

Jin Guangyao does as he’s asked with a heavy sigh and another swig of his wine, barely registering the sound of Mo Xuanyu rattling off their call sign to air traffic control and requesting clearance for their chosen route back to the Mainland. He closes his eyes as Mo Xuanyu begins taxiing down the runway, the high roar of the engines a comforting background noise that lulls him to sleep before they’ve even taken off.

-... .-. . .- -.-

Nie Mingjue runs a critical eye over Lan Xichen one more time before he steps in closer to turn him in a slow circle with guiding hands around his waist, which the man submits to with a hint of reluctance. Nie Mingjue generously decides not to comment on the fact that he still looks a little..warm around the tips of his ears.

“Much better,” he says, and he means it. Jin Guangyao seems to have a typical Jin’s horrendous taste (the ‘it doesn’t matter what something looks like so long as it’s expensive’ kind of taste – Nie Mingjue strongly disagrees), but he was easy enough to get rid of, so at least Lan Xichen won’t look like a complete travesty. “Yes, I like this,” he adds once Lan Xichen is facing him again, clearly more comfortable in this outfit than the first, though he seems to be trying very hard to act like he’s not. “But it’s missing…” Nie Mingjue digs into his pocket for the diamond ring he’d picked up from a high-end jeweler down the street before he’d joined the others. He drops it into Lan Xichen’s palm, his fingers curled around the fine bones of his wrist easily overlapping each other, and he catches a flinch of defiance on Lan Xichen’s handsome face before he resigns himself to the inevitable.

“Now we are engaged,” he says for good measure, and he doesn’t miss the way Lan Xichen’s gaze flickers to the door for a split second before he looks up at him again, apparently at least willing to play along for now.

“Congratulations,” one of the shopgirls offers from where she’s waiting beside the dais in the middle of the paneled mirrors to see if they need anything else. Nie Mingjue is startled into smiling ever so slightly at her boldness as he turns to glance down at her, nearly two full heads shorter than him.

“Thank you,” he smirks as out of the corner of his eye he sees Lan Xichen slip the ring onto the third finger of his left hand.

... -.-. . -. . / -... .-. . .- -.-

监理处 LUXURY RESORT — YILING

There is, in Yiling, precisely one area where a Wen agent can reasonably be assured that they’re safe enough from attracting unwanted attention.

Or at least that was the case in the years before the Yiling Laozu decided to claim the city for his own.

The old Wen Supervisory Office — now turned luxury hotel and frequented mostly by Wens in name or allegiance — sits just beyond the fringes of the oldest district that has become the Yiling Laozu’s main stomping ground, though the entire city is naturally under his purview. No matter how many times Nie Mingjue tells Wen Ruohan that his last ‘stronghold’ in Yiling is no longer much of a haven, though, his boss never knows how to listen. These days Nie Mingjue tends to keep the reminder that he knows more than a thing or two about defense and battle lines behind his teeth in favor of avoiding punishment as he goes along with whatever stupid outdated scheme Wen Ruohan cooks up, considering he can fight his way out of any trouble easily enough anyway.

But being able to fight his own way out of trouble doesn’t help him feel any less protective of Lan Xichen at his side as they stride into the lobby of the resort, a porter carting their bags in behind them. All it takes is one sharp glance from a couple of hard-looking men (lounging like the apex predators they are in a plush seating area to the left of the doors) for him to loop an arm around Lan Xichen’s silk-clad waist to keep him close and make it clear to anyone watching that he’s not the easy target he may seem to be.

“Mingjue?” Lan Xichen asks, and at least he’s sensible enough to keep his voice down as they don’t break their stride across the lavishly decorated lobby. (Nie Mingjue remains convinced that it’s only thanks to the strength of both Wen Ruohan’s and the Yiling Laozu’s violent reputations that the place hasn’t been burnt to the ground by an angry mob yet in the name of Revolution.)

“Not here.”

Lan Xichen’s tendency to dig his heels in has apparently been left with his old clothes in the department store back in Hong Kong; he simply tucks himself closer with a stealthy glance around the lobby and lets himself be shepherded up to the check-in counter without a fuss.

The clerk they approach in the last spot at the end is one that Nie Mingjue knows from previous assignments, though he hadn’t heard that she’d been moved to Yiling. He supposes he’s not the only piece on Wen Ruohan’s chessboard, so he simply offers her a nod that she returns with a perfectly bland smile and, wisely, no use of his name while he begins checking them in, not with so many curious ears around.

“Welcome to the Supervisory Hotel, sir. You and your fiancé—” great, so everyone’s been briefed then. Nie Mingjue wishes he could roll his eyes without risking their cover “—have been put in suite 191 for your stay. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Our bags to our room and a breakfast order placed for the morning, early as you can: one of everything on the menu and a few pots of tea — jasmine, green, and black.”

“Yes sir. Enjoy your evening.”

Nie Mingjue offers another nod and Lan Xichen murmurs a smiling, “Thank you, guniang,” at his side, unfailingly polite in a way that sort of makes Nie Mingjue’s skin crawl, though he’s learning quickly that he’s just genuinely like that. He hadn’t known that people could be so purposefully polite without any ulterior motive, but here they are.

He hands Lan Xichen one room key and pockets his own while the porter sorts out their bags and steers Lan Xichen around to head back down the length of the lobby — and mere yards from the doors they pass Jin Guangyao just arriving, his gaze flicking to them briefly as they approach. Nie Mingjue, naturally, gives him no more attention that he would anyone else in this lobby, but he feels Lan Xichen perk up where he’s still tucked up against his side. 

It’s the only warning he gets before Lan Xichen says (thankfully quietly), “A-Yao?”

Jin Guangyao, for all that Nie Mingjue really wants nothing to do with him, is…alright fine, he’s good at what he does. He doesn’t even spare them a second glance as he saunters right past them into the lion’s den between the atrium and the check-in desk with his head held high, but Lan Xichen actually turns in his arms to watch him until Nie Mingjue jostles him a little more abruptly than necessary to get his attention back where it belongs.

Lan Xichen thankfully faces forward again and doesn’t say anything else, though he radiates displeasure at his side. His hope that the one-sided exchange was too quick to catch unwanted attention is quickly dashed; just as they reach the entryway Nie Mingjue feels more than sees the men who’d watched them enter stand up, and as he pushes through the glass-and-gold doors out into the evening air he resigns himself to the fact that Lan Xichen is apparently someone who’s going to make his job harder than it needs to be, that’s just all there is to it.

He ignores the tingle at the back of his neck from their new hangers-on in favor of leading Lan Xichen down the front steps of the resort and across the street into the bustling warren of the city; hopefully the crowds will buy them some breathing room.

Yiling is a thriving city, in its own right. It lacks the polish and grandeur of Lanling or Qishan, the (former) steady industrial thrum of centuries of mining and smithcraft in Qinghe, or the hustle and bustle of the waterway trade in Yunmeng, but there’s still an undeniable spark to it, a life that hurries on around them in rhythms they don’t quite fit into as the outsiders that they are. Nie Mingjue releases Lan Xichen’s waist in favor of taking him by the hand to better navigate the narrow, crowded alleyways and streets bustling with evening activity on the way to their destination, and though Lan Xichen follows along willingly it only takes a few turns before he gives Nie Mingjue’s hand a curious little tug.

“Mingjue wait — where are we going?”

Nie Mingjue glances back at him just in time to tug him close to keep him from getting run over by a cyclist carting a massive basket overflowing with some crop he can’t identify in the low light. Lan Xichen stumbles ever so slightly and catches himself with both hands on Nie Mingjue’s chest as the cyclist passes them by with the low whizz of his narrow tires. When Nie Mingjue glances down at his hands with a pointed raise of one eyebrow Lan Xichen looks slightly abashed…but he doesn’t seem in a hurry to remove them, either. That’s fair enough, he supposes, considering he’d had his hands stuck under the waist of Lan Xichen’s trousers just a few hours ago. Turnabout’s fair play and all that.

Considering Lan Xichen seems content to stay where he is, Nie Mingjue does his level best to not be distracted by the way Lan Xichen is only a few inches shorter than him (a comfortable height for kissing, his traitorous mind notes) as he finally answers the man’s question. “We’re going where any architect visiting Yiling would go: to see the sights.” 

“Mn.” Lan Xichen glances around at the thoroughly unimpressive alleyway they’re standing in and gives Nie Mingjue a look that somehow manages to convey how little he thinks of these particular ‘sights’, but there’s a tiny hint of a smile hovering at the corner of his lips that Nie Mingjue has to put genuine effort into not returning. That’s..new.

“Not these sights. Other ones. Better ones.”

Lan Xichen hums again, definitely amused this time, and slides his hands ever so slightly up Nie Mingjue’s chest towards his shoulders. He can’t help but notice that Lan Xichen is actually smiling now, a gentle thing that somehow lights up his whole face.

Nie Mingjue reminds himself very forcefully that he doesn’t actually care if they have a nice time tonight; it’s not a date, it’s reconnaissance. Because they are on a mission and mere days ago Lan Xichen was his mark, not his..accomplice. For lack of a better word. (Lan Xichen’s hands [and his face and his waist and his general everything] are too distracting for him to think of anything better.)

“Mingjue?”

“Hm?”

“I believe if we wish to see anything worthwhile before it grows too late we may actually need to…keep walking.”

Nie Mingjue does not flush, his neck just suddenly gets a little warm under the high collar of his sweater. He steps back out of Lan Xichen’s too-close proximity and straightens out his ubiquitous leather jacket as if the other man’s light touch on his shoulders could be enough to ruck it up out of line. Lan Xichen’s hand is warm in his as he continues the way they’d been going, heading for the blaze of lights at the opposite end of the alley. His hand is unfairly pleasant to hold, and Nie Mingjue lets himself indulge in focusing mostly on that sensation of it for the length of time it takes them to get to the next street, where he actually has to pay attention in order to take a route that he hopes will buy them some extra time before their pursuers catch up to them.

The route takes them to a public garden just inside the gates of the oldest district of the city, tucked neatly between the main thoroughfare full of cyclists and a few honking cars and a tea house at the other end closing down for the evening. Lit with strand after strand of red-papered lanterns, the park is arranged pleasantly around a large pond in the center, large enough for an arched bridge to curve over it and reflect off the still water in a perfect mirror. The water is broken up in places by patches of nodding lotus flowers just beginning to sink back into the water for the night, their petals closed tightly.

“Ahh I see,” Lan Xichen hums as they come to a stop at the fence that borders the pedestrian path. At Nie Mingjue’s questioning glance he gestures towards the glinting reflections of warm lamplight and wooden beams in the water as he clarifies, with a smile, “The sights. This is lovely.”

Nie Mingjue’s criteria are more about finding safe public spaces where they can’t be easily cornered while they get some of the lay of the land of the Yiling Laozu’s territory, but that doesn’t sound like the sort of thing that will keep Lan Xichen happy enough to keep playing his part as well as he has been while they’ve been walking, so he just nods and looks back out at the water.

“Well, Mr Architect…” Lan Xichen begins with a sharp hint of teasing in his voice, well-hidden but dangerous all the same. “You seem like a..thorough man, I’m sure you’ve done your homework. Is there anything you can tell me about this place?”

Nie Mingjue, who knows fuck-all about architecture and has very little interest in learning, naturally replies, “Of course there is.” Lan Xichen looks up at him with bemused challenge in his eyes.

“Oh?” He releases Nie Mingjue’s hand to turn his back on the pond and lean elegantly against the fence, open and expectant. He gestures with both hands spread on either side of his hips and a tilt of his head. “Go on, then.”

Nie Mingjue breathes through a sudden memory of similar sensations of any potential story being wiped suddenly clean from his mind anytime A-Sang would plead for one at bedtime as a child. The association is unexpected, and extremely unwelcome in his current circumstances.

“The bridge was constructed in…1723.” Lan Xichen raises his eyebrows and smiles like he can tell Nie Mingjue is 100% pulling this out of his ass, but that’s not nearly enough to make him stop. “Credited to two Qishan Wen architects..actually built by a Qinghe Nie.” 

Lan Xichen’s smile turns openly indulgent, but Nie Mingjue is in too deep now to let him win. Lan Xichen pushes off the fence to start walking towards the bridge in question and Nie Mingjue follows a few paces behind as he continues. “Yes, a Qinghe Nie architect named…” Nie Mingjue scrambles to think of a name, but he’s never been good at this game and so he forces himself not to wince around the ache of his father’s memory as his clumsy tongue offers up, “Fengyi.”

At least there’s no hint of recognition in the relaxed slope of Lan Xichen’s shoulders as he wanders onto the bridge, long strides eating up the distance between the first few planks embedded in the footpath and the high center arch of it easily. Nie Mingjue stays at the bank of the pond, leaning against the first post of the bridge’s railing as he watches Lan Xichen reach the peak and begin to lean over further than Nie Mingjue is strictly comfortable with to look down into the water. He scrambles to think of the next thing to say; maybe if the story is interesting enough Lan Xichen will stop doing things that make his adrenaline spike. 

“And of course Fengyi had…a son…uh..Huaisang. A-Sang loved art and architecture so much he inspired his father to build beautiful things.” Fuck why is he thinking about A-Sang now?! It’s all Jin Guangyao’s fault for bringing him up as his trump card the other day in the cafe, he decides, and thus channels his anger and hurt in the appropriate direction. Lan Xichen turns his head to look over at him, his face expectant, from where he’s bent over and leaning out so far over the railing his heels have popped up off the surface of the bridge.

“Unfortunately he had to..send his son away in the middle of construction as Yiling wasn’t a safe place for someone like his son to be. After that, Nie Fengyi decided to build everything in the park exactly how his son would like, in his honor, so that Huaisang could visit and see everything that had been built just for him once Yiling was safe.”

“That’s quite a large project. The construction must have taken a long time,” Lan Xichen muses.

“Well, naturally Nie Fengyi was a talented architect, he could handle taking on so much work. Why do you say so?”

“Because there’s a plaque up here that says the bridge was finished in 1938.”

Ah.

Nie Mingjue is very glad of the distance between them and that the hazy glow of lantern light is the only thing illuminating him — his face is definitely red, but Lan Xichen doesn’t need to know that. He’s already gloating enough as it is considering his smirk is visible even from here.

“Well. As I said. Yiling was dangerous at the time, and there would have been…Fires. Yes. A fire that destroyed the original bridge a century after it was constructed, so it had to be rebuilt.”

“And the re-construction took another…hundred odd years or so?”

Nie Mingjue wracks his brain for another plausible explanation as he stalls with a short, “No–” that is promptly interrupted by the quiet evening shattering around the spitting rumble of a motorbike that pulls into the park.

“Evening, Big Red. Huan-ge,” Jin Guangyao greets when he’s ground to a stop mere inches from Nie Mingjue’s foot. Nie Mingjue glances sharply around at the park’s few other patrons to make sure none of them are paying them any undue amount of attention.

“You are not supposed to acknowledge us in public,” he snaps, eyes still scanning though he sees Jin Guangyao shrug and smirk at him in his peripherals.

“And you are already being followed.”

Nie Mingjue notes the way Lan Xichen’s head snaps towards them again, his posture straightening (thank god) and his expression slipping towards concern as he looks between them.

“I know. The two men from the lobby, both early-30’s, one in a leather jacket and one in a black suit. Which is why you should leave.”

Lan Xichen comes down from the bridge again to drift close enough to hear them properly, arms crossed over his chest as he glances surreptitiously at their immediate surroundings.

“They went the long way around to the other side of the park when you came in. I imagine they’ll be waiting for you when you leave,” Jin Guangyao tells them, still arrogant as all Jins are as he leans on his motorbike and acts like he isn’t actively making the situation worse simply by being here.

Nie Mingjue stops his scanning to glare at Jin Guangyao instead, his jaw tensing with a click as his fingers start to twinge, the precursor to the shaking that will start any moment.

“I’ll handle them.”

“‘Handle’,” Jin Guangyao muses, sounding bored. A moment later he turns a saccharine smile on Nie Mingjue, tight enough that those damn dimples of his pop deep shadows in his cheeks. “By ‘handle’ I’m assuming you mean in the ‘I’m a completely normal architect showing his fiancé around town, please god don’t hurt me’ way. Because that’s what you are, and naturally you’ll be scared, and it’s in your best interests to act like it?”

“‘Scared’?” Nie Mingjue nearly spits back. A man from Qinghe is not scared of a couple of goons who think they can pull one over on him. Especially not when that man has been Wen Ruohan’s unwilling right hand for almost half his life, with every ounce of violence the honor entails.

Lan Xichen’s mellow voice is enough to snap him back from the lapping edge of his rage when he steps a touch closer and asks, “What exactly is going on?”

Jin Guangyao’s haughty expression smooths out into something noticeably softer even in the low lantern-light when his eyes flicker over to Lan Xichen. Nie Mingjue breathes through the familiar anger coursing through him that clouds his ability to think as clearly as he needs to while Jin Guangyao explains. “You’re being tested. Someone” — his tone and raised eyebrow implies they all know who — “wants to make sure your fiancé here is really an architect, and not a highly trained secret agent. A trained secret agent like Wen Ruohan’s precious Red Blade, for instance.”

Nie Mingjue gnashes his teeth around the blatant disregard for discretion and takes a step away from Lan Xichen’s side to better loom over Jin Guangyao on his stupid fucking motorbike, sitting there calm and collected like he isn’t actively putting everything they’re working on in jeopardy.

“I said I’ll handle it!”

“I think you should do as he says, Mingjue,” Lan Xichen murmurs as he lays a lightly restraining hand on his arm.

Jin Guangyao gives Nie Mingjue a scathing up-and-down glance, lingering a moment too long on his trembling fist at his side, before he shrugs and starts the bike up again with a splutter of the engine that settles into a rumbling purr.

“Alright then, off you go. Just remember — try to take it like a good boy,” he smirks with a fucking wink. Nie Mingjue is going to throttle him, no alliance with the Jin is worth this indignity, nuclear death of everyone on the planet be damned.

“This is not the Nie way,” he snaps for good measure, but all he gets for it is Lan Xichen’s hand slipping into his to squeeze it tightly in silent reproach and Jin Guangyao offering another dimpled smile before he zips away into the night, out of the park and onto the street to disappear quickly in the bustling evening traffic. Nie Mingjue watches him go for a long moment before he turns and stalks off towards the other side of the park, his ‘fiancé’ in tow. Lan Xichen wisely stays silent as they continue on their way, all hints of teasing gone.

He stays close to Nie Mingjue’s side as they cross through the park and exit on the other side, deeper now in the oldest part of the city and surrounded on all sides by tall, narrow buildings casting deep shadows, everything seeming to have been designed specifically to lean in over the street to better block out the sallow glow of the only nearby street lamps…all the way at the next junction some two blocks away.

Nie Mingjue slows his steps and reaches down to slide Lan Xichen’s hand up from where it’s tangled with his to tuck it in the crook of his elbow instead so that he’s free to ball that hand up into a fist against his sternum, making sure they look like any regular couple out for a stroll. It’s not ideal, but his body can’t help but prepare for the fight he knows he could win upon spotting a couple shadowed figures waiting for them tucked just inside an alley between two shops, dark and closed up for the night. Lan Xichen’s grip hardens on his arm, but Nie Mingjue has no intention of letting him get hurt, even should he have no choice but to let things escalate.

Adrenaline courses through him at the idea of getting to bash a couple heads in after the last few days he’s had as he leads Lan Xichen down the street, his gaze trained straight ahead like he can’t tell they’ve just passed right by their tail.

“Hey, nice shoes,” one of them calls out, oily slick from the shadows and punctuated with a little giggle that raises the hair on the back of his neck. 

Nie Mingjue doesn’t break stride as he replies with a brusque, “Thank you,” and gives Lan Xichen’s hand on his elbow a reassuring squeeze.

They’ve just made it past the porch the second man is lounging on when he adds, gruffer than his companion, “Maybe you should give those to me, ah?”

Nie Mingjue — ignoring the way Lan Xichen’s restraining grip on his arm is now tight enough that his hand is starting to tingle from the lack of blood flow to it — slows to a stop to lean back far enough around Lan Xichen to look down his nose at the second man’s dangling legs. He slaps a smirk on his lips and makes sure the innuendo is crystal clear when he replies, “I think your feet are..a little too small.”

He lets Lan Xichen coax him a few steps forward again with surreptitious tugs on his arm, but they’ve only gone that far before the first man speaks up again, closer behind them than he’d been before.

“Give me some cash for dinner, then? Looks like you’ve got plenty of it to spare.”

Nie Mingjue breaks Lan Xichen’s grip and they turn in unison to face him. He clenches his newly freed hand down by his hip, but Lan Xichen is already there, grabbing his arm again and putting the hand not crushing his elbow on his chest to get his attention.

“Darling.” Something about that low, tense murmur snaps Nie Mingjue’s full attention to him, where he finds Lan Xichen far too close and looking up at him with clear censure in his eyes. Do what we discussed, his gaze seems to warn as he adds, “Give him enough for dinner, hm?”

Nie Mingjue could lay these two idiots out flat in less time than it takes to pull his wallet out, but for Lan Xichen’s sake (and Lan Xichen’s sake alone, he doesn’t care what Jin Guangyao thinks he should do) he does the latter. He fishes his wallet from his pocket to pull a handful of notes free, the paper crinkling in his grasp (the smiles of the workers on the front of the bills feel like they’re mocking him) as he passes them to the oily one in the leather jacket. The man takes the cash with a grin wide enough it looks near manic — and reaches across Lan Xichen to slip Nie Mingjue’s entire wallet free from his hand as well.

Lan Xichen’s hand on his chest is the only thing that keeps him from snapping a fist across the space between them to knock the guy out cold for daring to push his luck like this.

“Enjoy your dinner,” he says instead with a tight, threatening smile. Lan Xichen gives his chest a little pat before they turn back around to continue on their way —

But the one in the suit is blocking their path with an ugly smirk on his lips, and Nie Mingjue’s senses shift abruptly into high alert before he’s even consciously noted the clean metal ssnik of a well-oiled blade flicking open behind them. He wraps his arm around Lan Xichen’s waist to shield his more vulnerable organs, his grip steady as they look over their shoulders in sync to gauge the threat.

“Nice watch,” Leather Jacket smirks, twirling his long glinting knife between clever fingers.

No.

No no no! This is fucking insane, Nie Mingjue is not giving his father’s watch to a miserable little cretin he could snap in half like a toothpick! Any Nie (or Wen) knows how to fight, he isn’t special or even unusual; it wouldn’t be noteworthy at all if he landed these two in the hospital for accosting him and his fiancé after dark!

“Ge,” Lan Xichen breathes, another warning, more urgent this time (though he’s pretty sure it’ll sound like fear to their attackers). This is getting more ridiculous by the second — they could already be on their way without the need for any tension at all if Jin Guangyao had just agreed to let Nie Mingjue handle this. “Give him the watch.”

“The ring, too.”

“I beg your pardon?” Lan Xichen asks, sounding so affronted all the sudden that Nie Mingjue wonders if he might end up throwing a punch instead.

Leather Jacket shrugs and uses the knife to point at Lan Xichen’s left hand resting over Nie Mingjue’s curled around his waist. “It’s a nice rock. I want it.”

“Hm.” Lan Xichen releases him long enough to work the diamond off his finger with an indignant huff, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t miss the way Leather Jacket’s hand wraps far too familiarly around Lan Xichen’s graceful fingers when he takes the ring from him, the leer on his face distinctly predatory. Assessing. 

“The watch,” Black Suit reminds him, as if Nie Mingjue could have forgotten in the last thirty seconds.

“The watch!” Leather Jacket snaps — and slaps him across the face.

There is a ringing in his ears, loud enough to drown out everything else in the world. He blinks against it and tries to center himself with a desperation born entirely out of needing to remain present for Lan Xichen’s sake, but the ringing has absolutely nothing to do with the force of the slap and everything to do with the memories rising to the front of his mind too sharp, too loud.

A moment after he’s dragged his thoughts back to the present, Black Suit reaches out to strike him across the other cheek, snapping his head back towards Leather Jacket. His vision dims with the force of his heartbeat thundering in his ears, fury doing its best to work its way past his self-control.

“Mingjue.” Lan Xichen’s sharp call cuts through the ringing in his head. “Give him the watch.”

It takes a few tries to get his shaking fingers to close around the tongue of the wristband threaded through itself, but he eventually manages it and holds his one and only sentimental possession out to Leather Jacket, who snatches it away with another toothy grin before he hawks up a quick glob of spit that lands right where Nie Mingjue’s cheek is still smarting from the first blow.

Nie Mingjue punches him in the throat, his hand a blur as he closes the distance between them with virtually no sense of satisfaction.

“Mingjue!!” Lan Xichen yelps as he hurries to step in front of him, both hands on his chest again as Black Suit hurries around them to tug his buddy up off the ground and away from where Nie Mingjue is seething, the edges of his vision turning a hazy red with the strength of it. “Calm down! That’s enough.”

He can’t take his eyes off his father’s watch in Leather Jacket’s half-gloved hand as the pair make their escape back down the alley and disappear from sight. His stomach twists with the piece of himself that he just allowed to be torn away. His hands are too hard, too bruising on Lan Xichen’s hips as he just barely manages not to shove the man out of his way to give chase. It takes a few long moments, he’s not exactly sure how long, before he becomes aware of another set of footsteps approaching them at a leisurely pace from an alleyway between two buildings.

“You’re not very good at this whole ‘subtlety’ thing, are you?” Jin Guangyao drawls from the shadows.

“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen cautions but Nie Mingjue is already rounding on his new target, eyes flashing as he stalks forward.

“That man just stole my father’s watch.” It’s not enough, it doesn’t even begin to cover the cavern yawning suddenly in his chest, but Nie Mingjue isn’t the most eloquent man even at the best of times, which this is certainly not.

“Yes, I saw. And aren’t you supposed to be an architect?”

“Yes, and a Wen architect would fight back! A Wen agent would kill them! But do I need to remind you that I am neither?!”

“Yes yes, you’re a Nie, I know, we’ve been over this already,” Jin Guangyao waves his anger away with a flick of his wrist, though as keyed up as he is Nie Mingjue can’t help but notice with a hunter’s eye that he drifts a few steps out of his range in Lan Xichen’s direction, where the man has stepped away to sit on the steps of the nearest shop to put his head down on his knees and breathe. “You’re still not exactly known for your even temper, whether you’re Wen or Nie or whatever. Forgive me for being surprised that you seem to have actually thought this through.”

Nie Mingjue wouldn’t be surprised if the pop in his jaw is actually cracking enamel with the force of how hard he’s clenching his teeth to keep his voice down as he spits, “Let’s finish what we started —”

“Don’t!” Lan Xichen’s aggravated bark catches both of their attentions; Nie Mingjue darts another glance his way to find he’s sat up and is now glaring at both of them; it sits strangely on his face. He stands after a moment to stomp closer, clearly at his limit for the second time today. “I was under the impression that you two are supposed to be protecting me, so why am I the one who has to get in the middle and play mediator?”

This close Nie Mingjue can see something else lurking under his irritation but he’s not exactly in a position to suss out what it may be, nor do they have the time for him to try. Instead, he takes a deep breath to try to force his anger back down where it can’t hurt anything. As satisfying as it would likely be, laying Jin Guangyao out flat with a few solid punches won’t help anything now, and he doesn’t want to hurt Lan Xichen, which leaves him without a target to take it out on anyway. Better to let it simmer instead until he can unleash it at just the right moment.

“If you both cannot begin acting like you know what you’re meant to be doing here, I’m leaving. You said it yourself this morning that this plan won’t work without me — act like it.”

Nie Mingjue is left blinking in the wake of his scolding, nonplussed, and when he glances down at Jin Guangyao he finds the other man looks equally as gobsmacked.

“Is it weird that I like him angry?” Jin Guangyao mutters out of the corner of his mouth. Lan Xichen visibly collects himself with a tug on the leather suspenders Nie Mingjue had put on him and a hitch of his trousers to re-settle them after his little breathing exercise on the stoop.

“Don’t talk to me,” Nie Mingjue mutters back before he stalks forward to snag Lan Xichen’s hand and lead him back to the hotel. They’ve had a long day and, as he’d expected, Lan Xichen allows himself to be towed along without complaint.

If Jin Guangyao knows what’s good for him, he’ll take a different route back to his own room and leave them alone for the rest of the night, at the very least.

[im-writing-extra]

tee hee guys I know I say it every time but I’m living my best little life writing this. I’m so serious, this brings me SO much joy and ik it’s silly and whatever but I don’t care!!

in case u didn’t know, in this house we stan the Jedi. there is no Jedi slander here, they are sweet beautiful people (with flaws, okay, I’m not blind) but they really are keeping peace in the galaxy. and people get weird about their attachment rules but that’s because over time the intent of the law gets corrupted by the letter of the law. and that’s just life.

anyway Jedi good Sith bad idk how to make it more clear😌

table of contents

chapter 6 - quiet treason

Morning comes far too soon. It’s not unfamiliar to wake up next to Yord, but what is unfamiliar is the way he brushes the hair out of your eyes with the softest smile you’ve ever seen. That’s all it takes to remind you that yesterday was no dream.

“You’re awake,” he says, voice rough with sleep. You groan.

“My bones hurt,” you say, and it’s the understatement of the millennium. Every single nerve feels like it’s on fire, your muscles are tensed to the breaking point, and it feels like a herd of banthas are running inside your head.

Yord sits up to get a better look at you, concern etched on his face. “You don’t look well,” he says, and you frown.

“Thanks, Yord. Sorry I don’t wake up with perfect hair like you.”

Yord half-reaches for his hair, self-conscious. You can practically hear the words, you think I have perfect hair? but instead his hand changes direction to touch your forehead. It’s soothing, the cool of his hand against the warmth of your forehead.

Except you run cold-blooded. His hand should feel warm.

“You’re burning up,” he says, throwing off the blankets. “I’m calling Dalphri.”

You reach for him, but catch sight of your left hand in the process. You gasp.

“Yord!”

He’s back at your side in an instant, and you thrust your hand to him, palm up.

“Oh,” he says, voice catching in his throat. “That cannot- that cannot be good. I’m sure Dalphri will know what to do. You’ll be all right, I promise. You’ll be all right.”

He reaches for his comm, still in his cloak from yesterday, and it lands securely in his hand. You’re barely aware of his call back to the temple as you stare at your palm. The gash has crystalized, white minerals sparkling along the edges. Black veins pulsate from the cut and up your arm before becoming diluted in your bloodstream.

“…Thank you, Knight Ameras,” Yord says to the comm, turning it off. “We’re going outside,” he says, pulling on a shirt and trousers before helping you into your undershirt. You groan again, whether at the prospect of moving or the fact that Yord is now in a shirt, you’re not entirely sure. But you comply and let him lift your arms as he slides your top carefully over your head.

He asks, “Can you stand?” and you shrug. 

“Won’t know unless I try,” you say, except the words don’t actually come out and the world goes black.

—

You wake up to the entire world ringing. You’re no longer in your undershirt, instead wrapped in your cloak with a heavy weight on your chest. Everything is pleasantly cold; soft snow tickles your lashes as it drifts down onto your face.

“…Not sure when she’ll wake up,” comes Yord’s distorted voice. You’re coming back into your senses, buried from the neck down in a snowbank to regulate your temperature while he speaks on comms nearby.

“Hey,” you croak, and he turns to look at you. Relief doesn’t come naturally to him; his emotions are carefully trained to lie beneath the surface, but you’ve known him long enough to see the knot between his eyebrows loosen ever so slightly.

“She’s just woken up, Master,” he says. “As I was saying, I believe we will need more surveillance on this mine. This is a corrupted vergence, and-”

“Corrupted?” interrupts Master Vernestra Rwoh. “And the two of you just happened to come out unscathed?”

“Unscathed, they were not, Master Rwoh,” comes Master Yoda’s calming voice. “A debrief, we shall have. Trusted, these knights are.”

You sigh. Master Rwoh is one of the best Jedi Masters the Temple has produced in a century, becoming a knight at a mere fifteen. And yet, you wonder if perhaps that weight of responsibility is too much for her. If she is too paranoid, so bent on preserving the perfection of the Order that she has forgotten its true place in the galaxy.

“Excellent it is to hear you are well, my padawan,” Yoda says, and you crack a smile. He’s the only one who could ever get away with calling you a title below your rank. It’s a sign of affection and for you, a bond of family.

“Hm,” you rasp out, and you barely hear his chuckle before he and Master Rwoh sign off.

“Yord,” says Master Battchi.

You frown. You hadn’t realized he was on the call. In fact, you’re not sure who else had been on the call. It stands to reason that if three members of the council were there, the rest could have been as well.

“I wanted to speak to you on a personal matter,” Master Battchi says. You do your best to tune out what he’s saying, instead trying to focus on the snow around you. Your temperature is going back to normal, and you wiggle your hand to see if you can feel the crystals there. You’re not sure if it’s your imagination, but you think you feel a crunch.

Your ear picks up Master Battchi saying, “I just want you to be mindful of personal attachments,” and just like that, you’re hyper-focused.

He continues, “Events like this can put great strain on our minds. Emotion clouds judgement, and there are some judgements that cannot be undone. I have seen many a Jedi slip due to hasty actions.”

“I understand, Master,” Yord says. “I have not allowed my emotions to distort my decisions. You have taught me well; this assignment was highly eventful, and my concerns lay in making sure that we did not lose one of the best swordsman the Jedi have seen in a good long while. She is a great asset to the Order, and I would hate to be the one responsible for losing her.”

“Good,” replies Master Battchi. “As long as your concerns are not emotional. Yord, I shall see you soon. May the Force be with you.”

“May the Force be with you,” Yord responds. He clicks of the comms then finally turns all the way toward you.

You, meanwhile, are having a hard time understanding what you’re hearing.

“Yord. You just lied. And you lied well,” you say, incredulous. 

Yord never once wavers in intensity. “I want you and I want to remain with the Order. I will not sacrifice one for the other. I will do whatever it takes to have both.”

You’d kiss him, except the Jelucan colony is beginning to appear around you. You settle for a half-smile instead. He feels your forehead, nods in satisfaction, then stands. “More Jedi are coming to help contain the mine, and to help you find another one to sustain your lifestyle. I’m happy to answer further questions in an hour, once my partner is in a more stable condition. The Order thanks you for your cooperation, and we hope to help you move forward as soon as possible.” Yord bends, scoops you up out of the snow, and carries you back to your housing.

“What happened to my shirt?” you mumble, snuggling as close as possible.

“You threw up,” he states. “It was disgusting.”

—

The flight back to Coruscant is a blur. You have no memory of the Jedi sent to remain on Jelucan or of getting on the ship; you barely remember a worried Dalphri Ameras poking your arm and attaching you to all kinds of machines.

“We just need to keep her stable until we get back to the medical wing,” she tells Yord. “No, don’t touch that!” She swats away a med droid, then apologizes. “I’m sorry, I just need you to keep an eye on her vitals. This is a discipline in which I’m not well-studied.”

“Apology accepted, Knight Ameras,” beeps the droid. He moves to hover in a corner, watching the ebb and flow of your vital signs.

Something’s in your right hand, and you grip it trying to figure out what it is. Everything is so… hazy.

“Hey, I’m right here,” says Yord, his face coming into view. “I’m not leaving. You’re going to be all right.”

You try to smile and tell him, I know, silly, but something Dalphri has given you hits your system and you black out once more.

—

You wake abruptly, with the strangest feeling that you’re being watched. Things are clearer now, and you can tell you’re in the Jedi Temple’s medical wing. But you could’ve known that by the sterile smell alone. It’s never been a particular favorite place of yours, but you’ve spent a good amount of time here while Dalphri studies and schemes so you’re familiar.

You roll your head to the other side of the bed and come face to face with a group of younglings.

“How-“ you ask groggily, but are interrupted by a Caphex closest to the front.

“Do you really have kyber crystals in your hand?” she lisps.

“Are you going to build another lightsaber?” asks a Quemerian, head sticking above the group.

“Can you teach us how to fight? Master Sol says you’re the best-”

“Can I be your padawan? I’m still little, but Master Poof-”

“Why does Master Yoda talk like that? Can you-“

Their clamoring is sweet, but overwhelming. You’ve always liked younglings, with their wide-eyed optimism and eagerness to learn. There’s a part of you that considers teaching in the temple one day, if you were ever asked. You’re fairly certain Yoda will at some point, and although younglings lack the technical skill with a saber that padawans possess, there’s something satisfying about teaching them the foundations of Jedi combat.

You smile and open your mouth in hopes that a response comes out, but you’re saved by someone loudly clapping their hands.

“All right, everyone out! You’ve disturbed her enough. I’m sure she’ll come see you when she’s good and ready.”

The younglings groan, “Jecki,” in unison but they file out without further complaint.

Jecki steps forward, previously blending in with the group of younglings. “Hello,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

You squint at her. “What’s happening?”

“Master Sol sent me to check on you,” she says.

That makes sense. But- “Why were the younglings here?”

Jecki grins. “No one’s allowed to see you except members of the Council and even then, I think Knight Ameras would put up a fight. She’s so cool. Did you see she pierced her lekku?”

“We pierced her lekku,” you correct. “And anyway, what does that have to do with the younglings?”

“Master Sol isn’t allowed to see you so he sent me. I figured that I could let them in, they’d cause a scene, and then I’d be your saving grace and kick them back out. That way if Knight Ameras comes back you can tell her that I was actually helping enforce her rules,” she explains.

You take a moment to study Jecki. She seems familiar, and as you take in the orange markings on her pale face, you try to remember why. It’s not until you note her horns that you realize why.

You laugh. “I know you. You tried to out-argue Yord in front of Master Sol.”

Jecki shrugs. “Almost had him too. I see how I could have won in hindsight. Next time I suppose,” she sighs.

You laugh again. “He would not shut up about it. I think he was impressed, but don’t tell him I said that. I’m doing well, I think? My hand is still weird but my veins have receded.”

Jecki opens her mouth then shuts it just as rapidly.

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to see it, don’t you.”

“Very badly,” she responds. “Just so I can give Master Sol a… detailed report.”

“Whatever you say,” you tell her as you unwrap the bandage. “But if Dalphri comes in and sees this, we’re blaming it all on Imanu Venez. You know him? Not sure exactly how to pin this on him, but he’s our fall man.”

Jecki nods and leans closer. “That’s weird,” she says in awe. The crystals have closed the gash, forming makeshift scar tissue. You clench your hand expecting a crunch of rock against rock impeding your movement, but it feels like normal. The veins extend to your fingertips and wrist, no longer up your arm. You touch it gingerly. 

“It went all the way to my chest,” you say. “I’ve never heard of anything like it. You can touch it if you want.”

Jecki reaches with her index finger for the largest crystal closest to your thumb. “Feels strange,” she says. “It’s like- it’s like I can feel the Force through it.”

You like Jecki. Maybe it’s because she’s gutsy enough to go against Yord, willing to blame a Knight she doesn’t know for trouble she’s definitely caused, or the youngling Sol chose on a private mission to check on you. It’s probably all of those things. You watch her as she gently pokes at your hand in fascination and think, do I want a padawan?

The question remains unanswered as Jecki asks, “You know how the Sith can bleed a kyber crystal?”

You nod.

“Well, what if that happened to you? I don’t mean that you’re a Sith,” she hurries on, “but rather the opposite. As in, the Jedi version of bleeding kyber? Or maybe it bled you? I’m not really sure, it’s just a working theory but I promise it’s a positive one.”

You pause to consider the implications. Certainly other Jedi have been cut by their kyber crystals in the retrieval process. And you’re by no means the first to be called by two. Jecki’s hypothesis would mean something about the purity of your heart, of your commitment to the Jedi Order- a level of commitment you’re not sure you possess. 

“Jecki,” you begin slowly, “I understand what you’re saying. But I do not believe that applies to me. I would believe it if it were about a Jedi such as Master Yoda or Master Sol, but as interesting as your theory is, I do not believe it is possible in my case.”

Jecki tilts her head. “Isn’t it?”

The door swings open, silhouetting a furious Dalphri Ameras.

“What the actual kriff is going on in here?”

Without skipping a beat, you and Jecki reply, “It’s Venez’s fault.”

next chapter

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey :> I'm new on tumblr so idk how to use it properly please forgive me if I do it wrong! I remember really being into twst a long time ago but then I stopped for some reason. Recently, I saw your blog and it inspired me to download it again! So I wanna say thank you so much, your writing's awesome <3 Anyway, I'm just curious - what are your favourite characters in each of the dorms? I know that you like Jade and Rook but what about the other dorms? Sorry if I'm annoying, you don't have to!

Welcome to Tumblr and back to the rabbit hole that is Twisted Wonderland!! 🥳 Hope you have fun with your return and continue to enjoy this blog and my writing~

Here are my favorite characters from each dorm and a quick rundown of why (under the cut because altogether it’s lengthy):

From Heartslabyul: Ace!

My love for Ace is somewhat conditional. He’s my favorite of Heartslabyul largely by technicality because I don’t feel fondness toward any of the others in the dorm unless they’re interacting with specific other characters. For example, I love Trey having to play the straight man in a comedy duo whenever he’s with really “out there” classmates like Rook or Lilia. However, Trey as an individual character isn’t as interesting to me.

Ace can stand strongly on his own. He gets on my nerves at times, but I can appreciate his blunt honesty and I sometimes find myself cheering him on when he’s getting all up in someone’s business. His mischievousness nets him trouble, but I never stay mad at him for too long. Ace has a delicate balance of cheer and cheekiness that wakes me right up and keeps me on my toes!

From Savanaclaw: Leona Ruggie! 😌

I admire Ruggie for his work ethic and how he stays upbeat in spite of his circumstances. He's very street-smart and quick on his feet, which makes him a joy to watch, whether getting up to trouble or throwing quips at his classmates. Moreover, I love how there's a logical explanation as to why he acts the way he does. Having come from an impoverished neighborhood, he values practicality and finding a use for things people would usually disregard or throw away. I really understand where he's coming from. I also find the reason for Ruggie's "greed" to be much more compelling than most other characters with the same vice. For Ruggie, money is a matter of survival and security; he doesn't seek out wealth out of pure gluttony or greed but because he seeks a genuine better future for himself and those he loves. It puts a lot more weight into those "funny haha" moments where Ruggie's talking about how he can't relate to the wealthy.

... *pained groaning* Alright, I’ll cut the bullshit for a second and talk about he-who-shall-not-be-named.

I have an intense l*ve-hate relationship with L*ona. He used to be a character I didn't really care for (mainly because of how poorly written he was in episode 2 of the main story). As new content has come out (especially around episode 6, but no spoilers), I gained a newfound appreciation for him and his growth. I find that I like him best when he's not squandering his potential (although character-wise, I understand why he does) and utilizes his intelligence, and/or acts like a good leader and upperclassman to others. Sometimes there's content where L*ona doesn't even physically appear and it's just others talking about how they admire him or look up to him (Epel's Union Birthday/Birthday Jacket being one such example), and those kinds of lines really get to me 😭 The grumpy old man side of L*ona, his effortlessly sarcastic edge (like when he claims he's a lost child or a delicate prince that bruises easily), and how petty he gets toward his rivals are also fantastically hilarious. When I really think about it, he can be funny but he is also such a complex character (not that the others aren't, it's just that L*ona's kind of complexity is one I find really interesting). It's just... the way he usually presents himself (arrogant, prideful, and lazy) does him no favors in my eyes. It's a matter of personal taste, I just don't like those traits in a character. Every time he opens his mouth, I don't know whether I want to close it for him again or if I should just let him talk anyway despite how aggravating the results may be. It's similar to how I feel about Ace, except with Ace it feels a lot more juvenile so it hurts slightly less (whereas L*ona, a jaded adult, may bruise my own ego lol).

ANYWAY 🤡 I'm not going to say anything more than that because I don't want to prove my friends right about going from hating to l*king someone I basically swore I would never look up to/find attractive.

From Octavinelle: Jade!!

… Do I need to explain why 😂 J-Just read this post… You’ll see… a sneak peek into my brain wrinklies…

FUNNY (?) STORY: My favorite in Octavinelle (and overall in the cast) used to be Azul!! … But then I dropped him for his right-hand man, which is a joke that persists in my circle of friends to this day.

From Scarabia: Kalim!

(Honorable mention goes to Jamil!)

Whether I lean to Kalim or to Jamil depends on my mood, but most of the time I prefer Kalim. Sometimes I feel very motherly, in which case I’ll want to nurture and cherish Kalim. He has the kind of smile I want to protect from deception and bad things. He’s also naive enough where I worry if he doesn’t have someone with the right intentions teaching him, then he’ll fall prey to something nasty 🥲

Other times my patience is wearing thin and I don’t have the energy to “deal” with Kalim and his extravagant wants/needs. In those moments, I find that I relate more closely to Jamil, who is constantly worked to the bone and exasperated (yet has to hold his frustration in for the sake of maintain a professional veneer). Jamil falls into some bodyguard/butler tropes which I usually love, but part of me feels guilty about it since… well, Jamil doesn’t enjoy his position in life. It feels like some of my feelings toward Jamil comes from a place of pity rather than genuine love for him.

From Pomefiore: Rook!

What I love the most about Rook is his positivity and how he smiles even in the face of danger. He helps me look on the (reasonably) bright side of things even if things are bleak. There’s a rare comfort to be found in that, and it has actually helped me cope with some pretty tough situations.

Rook definitely comes off as too excessive in how he expresses himself, but I find it charming (he’s a one-man show!). This, as well as his aforementioned optimism, creates funny contrasts with the other characters—but as frivolous as he comes off, Rook can still mentor and pull through for others when they need him. There’s still so much left untold about him, and I’m really curious to figure out what he’s hiding 🫣

From Ignihyde: Ortho!!

Ortho’s in a very similar boat as Kalim; he’s the (sort of) innocent son I want to protect. I like how supportive Ortho is with Idia—he’s devoted in a way that’s hard to describe with words. Even if Ortho’s “just a robot”, you can tell how sincere his feelings and motivations are, and just how much he cares for those around him. (nxbdnwbdks though I also find it really funny when Ortho acts devilishly and uses his uniquely robotic traits to cause chaos 😂)

From Diasomnia: Sebek!

(A close second place goes to Lilia!)

Sebek has that sweet, sweet duality of looking tough and imposing but actually being a kinda pathetic puppy dog that only wants to be praised also he’s a bodyguard, what’s not to love about that👌 His smile is so cute, absolutely one of the best ones in the game!! I also find Sebek’s personality to be bracing—it's initially very off-putting, but something so familiar about the way he geeks out over his favorite person ever, and how he wants validation from those he admires. Sebek just has a... unique way to communicate (that is to say, he really doesn't), and I think that's pretty endearing.

Another immensely interesting aspect of Sebek is the insecurity surrounding his lineage and his identity fascinates me. This is usually the point that gets him written off by others as being intolerant—and while that’s true, I love the nuance behind it and how that plays into his character. It’s really complex and speaks to similar real-world issues. I’ve actually written a whole analysis on this topic, so I’d encourage you to read if if you’re interested.

I also like Lilia because we exude similar vibes (looking young but acting "old")—but even more than that, he’s the kind of person I want to be. His guardian and mentor role among the students is irreplaceable, and he’s the true “heart” that ties together Diasomnia (I’m a sucker for the found family trope). He’s wise, but he can also kick back and have fun whenever he wants! That’s the ideal retiree life, haha 😂

x jabsjxbskwnw You’ve probably noticed some patterns by now 🫠 I tend to like characters that fall into a few broad categories:

Characters with big brain cells and/or characters that rely on brains before brawn🧠

Characters that are cheerful and/or smile a lot 😊

Characters with strong duality or contrast

“Son” energy characters

Butlers and/or bodyguards in general